


pave the way (to tomorrow's field)

by リリス - riris (arurun)



Series: it's a long, long journey (till I find my way home to you) [1]
Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, And just... flips a table and starts the revolution, Canon Rewrite, Crack, Gen, In which Kirino says fuck, Kirino needs a Hug, Kirino's the Team Mom no one can tell me otherwise, Light Angst, Mild Gore, Overprotective Raimon, Platonic Cuddling, Raimon are a bunch of obnoxious brats, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, crazy children all of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arurun/pseuds/%E3%83%AA%E3%83%AA%E3%82%B9%20-%20riris
Summary: A little into their second year of high school, the Raimon Soccer Club were on their way to the Holy Road finals. Then the car veers off the path, and they dive into the valley, where the car rolls off the cliff into the verge, and no one survives.Kirino wakes up, and he's in Junior High again.Today is the day they meet Tsurugi Kyousuke, and Kirino doesn't know what to do.
Relationships: Kirino Ranmaru & Shindou Takuto
Series: it's a long, long journey (till I find my way home to you) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657747
Comments: 33
Kudos: 124





	1. never forget (the castle of our bonds)

**Author's Note:**

> **You see incidents like these in the news every once in a while. Out-of-the-blue tragedies that make you question the existence of a loving god in the world.**
> 
> **Kirino's life ends that day. Then it starts again, but it's too far away.**
> 
> **Looking at this with time-travelling experience, he knows he has to do something.**
> 
> -
> 
> In which Kirino travels back into the beginning days of Raimon, a fresh scar in his heart.
> 
> -
> 
> Highly inspired by **[Accidental Reverse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705630/chapters/36502230)** by Yara, so if it's too similar in your opinion, do tell me and I'll purge this right out of the internet.
> 
> This isn't a Reincarnation OC, but he still goes through my infamous afterlife lore's very unfortunate routes. yeah, angst. sorry not sorry.
> 
> - __
> 
> _p.s I gave Kirino a big brother for plot purposes, it's just a minor OC so don't worry_
> 
> _p.p.s Chapter titles are based on Inazuma songs, try naming them_

"Shin...dou?"

Kirino opened his eyes, but it was difficult. Strangely so.

He wasn't lying down. Half his body was upright-- sitting-- and a sharp pressure was in his shoulder. It took him another moment to realize he wasn't in his bed.

The pressure in his shoulder was the seat belt. And it hurts a little there because-- because he was upside down, suspended on the chair.

"Ever-" he coughed. His voice was dry-- his lips cracked, and there was the taste of dust around his face. In his next words, his voice cracked, "...everyone?"

He was in the caravan.

They were... they _were_ headed to the Holy Road Stadium.

-

-

Three years ago, a group of children overthrew the soccer government, traveled through time, then fought against aliens in space.

Now, in Raimon High School's Soccer club, a semblance of peace goes on.

Tenma and Shinsuke are always out causing some kind of trouble, somewhere. Shindou, though he doesn't let it show, is very much of a nutcase himself. Tsurugi runs the moment something troublesome happens, and Sangoku is too busy preparing for college to have time to deal with any of their juniors.

So that just leaves Kirino to deal with all the mess that happens in Raimon High's soccer club.

"You set your _locker_ on fire," he repeats it, and he could not sound more exasperated if he tried. "And, in your panic, you threw a flower pot at it... which just happened to have been the violet Akane was raising, so she got upset and... strung up pictures of you in a dress all over the school building."

Kariya sniffled, rubbing away tears.

Akane, pouting and teary-eyed, looked away. She did not look like she was reflecting at all, despite the wooden sign around her neck.

Kirino crossed his arms. He left these guys alone for ten minutes to supervise the second team's practice. He left them alone for _ten_ minutes!

"What about the fire?" he decides it's of priority.

Hamano raises his hand, "don't worry, I put it out with my Surfing Pierrot. The soil helped, but now it's muddy. We kinda panicked, so there's a Viva Great Wall of China over all of them right now--"

_Oh, that is the last straw._

" **Amagi-senpai**!" Kirino threw his hands into the arm, whirling on the senior.

"He's angry! Everyone, run!"

-

"You guys made Ranmama angry again?"

Tenma has the gall to tease his seniors when they're all seated outside on their knees, with big bumps on their heads and wooden signs informing passers-by that they were currently in reflection.

"You should run," Hayami informs, very helpfully, "I got hit for _not stopping Hamano_ , so he'll probably hit you for neglecting captain duties if he finds you."

"Yikes," Tenma shivers, "I wonder if the second team is willing to hide me today..."

"How about you actually do your job for once..."

"TENMA!" and here came the sharp voice, booming in like some heavenly decree. Everyone collectively stiffens and and Tenma gulps.

Kirino stands, hands on his hips and gaze sharpened in a way no one would have imagined him in Junior High. He's staring Tenma down like he's garbage.

Three years ago, if you told anyone that the scariest person on the team was Kirino, they really, really wouldn't believe you. If you told anyone that Kirino would soon become the person with the most authority in the team, they also wouldn't believe you.

In fact, sometimes Shindou would look at them and wipe a proud tear from his eyes. Kirino had grown so much. He's so happy for his son-- I mean, friend.

-

Arakumo versus Raimon was a yearly occurrence at the Holy Road finals. The nation's most definitive top two of the country, standing before the whistle for the greatest, most anticipated match of the year for all soccer fanatics.

At least, that was supposed to happen.

"Is everyone here?" Tenma called for the group as they boarded the caravan, "got it, everyone? This time, we're going to win!"

"Yeahh!!"

That day, Raimon bantered excitedly in their team bus. They were ecstatic from the start of the journey, just unable to wait patiently for the match to come.

But the bus never arrived at Holy Road stadium.

-

-

Kirino couldn't move his left arm. It was jammed between this seat and the collapsible seat, which had plucked from its socket and crammed into the space between. Looking down, Kirino saw a blur of deep red out of the gaps and suddenly, the lack of pain in that arm was terrifying.

Shindou... Shindou was seated beside him. Where is he-- where is everyone else? The windows were shattered-- there was glass around.

There were rocks too, broken trees and mounds of earth that indicated the caravan was at least half buried under some sort of landslide. He couldn't see much of the bus around him, but the stench of gasoline filled his nose and he jerked into alarm.

The seat belt malfunctioned. He squeezed at the button but it wouldn't release him. The blood was pooling in his head and making him feel nauseated.

Huh? Now that the panic was settling in and he's waking up, the pain was returning.

A cold feeling at the side of his head, a burning sensation at his brow. He turned his head a little, and the agony was unbearable.

He cast his gaze downwards and finally realized why he couldn't feel his legs. It was mince-- bent in weird directions, purple and green in the wake of decomposition. A part of the seat's metal contraptions had impaled it clean through, emerging bright and crimson on the other end, blood flowing up his leg and growing colder, colder, colder.

He finally realized that it wasn't that he wasn't feeling any pain-- he was feeling pain so much everywhere else, he didn't even register it.

And that definitely meant he was _dying_.

There were tears in his eyes. He pushed at the button of the seat belt again, but again, it didn't work, didn't work, couldn't work, just _let me go, please_. Could anyone blame him?

"Is anyone there?" he called, as loud as he could, "anyone? Anyone!"

There was pain in his crushed arm. His head panged with a windy headache. There was agony in both his feet. His feet. He needed his legs-- he's a soccer player! He can't play-- he can't play soccer anymore?

He began to call names. Sangoku, Tenma, Tsurugi, Shindou, Kurama, Hamano, Kurumada-- isn't anyone there? Someone, anyone, please-- please be there.

 _Please don't leave me alone now_.

There was no response, none from anywhere.

And somehow-- somehow he just _knew_. He just knew that they were all gone-- look at the state of the car! It's a miracle itself that Kirino still had energy to be alive.

_Furukabu-san? Coach Endou? Trainer Kidou?_

Kirino was desperate by now-- but he couldn't even tell that his voice had faded long ago. He choked on his sobs, whimpered through the last dredges of his pleas--

And fell silent.

-

-

-

Kirino wakes up, screaming.

Leaping out of his covers, breathing in like he's forgotten how to. He looks around-- there's light, there's the cold wind of the AC... why?

He's in his room. In his house... how?

He sets a hand at his shoulder. His left hand-- it's there. It's still there. It's not crushed red gunk and it isn't trapped between seats and made into jam.

His legs? His legs were fine. Intact. Straight. There's no hole. There's no metal bar in it.

They looked like normal legs-- but remembering the sight of his twisted feet made bile rise in his throat, and he rushed himself to the washroom, throwing up over the sink.

There's no pain except in his throat and in his head.

But the tears are there. The fear is there. The burn in his skull never fades and-- he retches again, and when he's done he wraps his arms around himself and _sobs_.

It happened.

It definitely happened. It wasn't a dream, it couldn't have been. It was too real. It was... It _happened_. He remembered the pain so vivid, so real-- that doesn't happen even in lucid dreams. That was... that was _not_ a dream. That was _not_ a nightmare. It--

"Ranmaru! Hey, Ran!"

Suddenly, he's jerked away and-- his older brother is there. Grabbing him by the shoulders, a hand cradling his face in an impossibly gentle manner--

"You with me? Yeah, breathe."

His brother isn't supposed to be here. He's supposed to be in... America. Yeah. He went there two years ago to further his studies...

"Kazu?" he asks, and his voice breaks. It's now that Kirino realizes how much he's shaking, how quickly he's breathing.

He keeps a hand on his older brother's arm, and he grips it like a lifeline.

"What happened?" Kirino's confused now-- so, so confused. "We were... on the bus, and-- why am I at home? Where's Shindou? Where's everyone else?"

"Hey, hey-- _hey_ ," Kazu taps him on the cheek, pulling in him for a very, very tight hug, "calm down. I think you just had a bad dream. You're home, nothing is happening-- look, I need you to take a deep breath. Can you do that?"

Kirino buries his face into his brother's shoulders, and sniffles. He digs his fingers into his brother's back and tries, and fails, to not cry.

He feels the fingers run through his hair, and he takes a moment to drag himself away from the hell inside his head.

For a while, all he thought of was the hand in his hair, the body in his arms, and the gentle hum of his brother's voice, soothing him back into reality.

He's not too sure when he falls asleep in that mess.

-

He's a little calmer the next time he wakes up, mainly from the confusion.

He looks in the mirror and what he sees is younger-- there's a bit of chub on his cheeks, but the scar on his arm, left by soccer practice last year, is no longer there.

In fact, the ankle brace Shindou got for him in their third year of junior high was nowhere to be seen. The succulents on his window aren't the same, and the curtains aren't what he changed them into yesterday.

The clock is ticking, two minutes past ten.

There's sweat at his neck, dripping off the edge of his hair, making everything sticky, sweltering, nasty. His eyes are bloodshot in the mirror and he couldn't look more tired if he tried.

He's horrifically late for everything-- practice, school, club-- but for some reason, he's not panicking. Maybe it's because his alarm clock is missing, and his phone isn't blown up with messages about the latest soccer club fiasco.

In fact, other than Shindou's chain of messages asking where he is around morning practice, no one else really says anything.

_Something's wrong_ , it sinks in, slowly. Today's date, the calendar's year-- and the presence of his older brother in this house.

And _ah_ , it hits him. _I'm in the past._

He's in his second year of _Junior High_ , and tomorrow is when the first years come in.

But why? He doesn't remember seeing Fei. Maybe Tenma did something again... but Kirino doesn't remember getting on the time-travelling caravan. It doesn't explain the horrific nightmare. He isn't wearing the time bracelet either-- so there's no reason Kirino would remember anything.

It doesn't make any sense. Why today? All the way back into... into three years ago? Or was it all really a dream, after all?

His hands are shaking, his breath is raspy, and the world is still spinning, but he knows Shindou's number by heart.

So he reaches for his phone.

"Hey, Shindou," he hates how his voice can't sound any calmer as he speaks into the phone. He claws at his hair and curls up in his bed, "you're there, right? Everyone's there? At club?"

There's no response at first, and Kirino almost wants to hang up and cry.

Because what if it's real and _this_ is the dream? What if everything really happened and he's the only one alive and everyone else is gone because--

"What's wrong, Kirino?"

When Shindou finally, _finally_ speaks, Kirino feels the world's weight lift off his shoulders. Yeah, that's Shindou's voice. It's him, a little younger-- but it's him.

It's him. He's not gone, he's there.

"You're alive, right?" Kirino can't help but ask, even when he knows it's a dumb, crazy question. His hand is still in his hair, clawing at his roots-- he just, he just _needs_ to know, "with everyone else?"

By now, Shindou evidently senses something is wrong. Kirino can hear the distinct shuffling of papers on the other end, and there are other voices around, talking to him. He hears his name from a voice that sounds like Hayami's.

"Yeah... everyone's here, we've got a full practice today except for you," Shindou answers, a little more hesitantly. Then with more concern, "Kirino, are you okay?"

_Am I okay?_ He would have laughed.

_You're not going to believe me but we just drove off a fucking cliff and everyone just died,_ **_I died, we all just_ ** _\-- and all of a sudden I'm here, you're young, I'm tiny, the date is wrong_ **_everything is wrong_ ** _, heck why are you even alive?_ **_Why am I?_ **

_But I'm okay. I'm okay_. _Just time travel, the usual shenanigans-- it's happened before, just-- just not like this, but it was kind of similar. Coach Endou died somewhere in between, Tsurugi got replaced halfway, twice, and everyone quit soccer about three times through the process_ , _but we'll be fine. I'll be fine._

Instead, Kirino just sobs, "no."

And Shindou immediately responds, "I'll be right there."

-

-

"I'm home-- ah. Takuto, you're here?"

"Ah-- I'm really sorry for intruding. Kirino is, uh..."

When the older Kirino comes home, it's to Shindou Takuto sitting on the couch. Ranmaru's head is in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around the boy's waist. He's sleeping soundly, but from the little wheeze in his breaths, he'd cried himself back to sleep.

"Sorry about that," Kazu immediately says, "he had... a really bad dream, it seems."

Shindou nods stiffly. He wipes away the tears on the boy's cheeks, and lets out a sigh when he finds that Kirino is thankfully, still sound asleep. "He called me around noon. Sheared a few years off my life, really."

He said that good naturedly, but the laugh that returns is dry.

They kept their eyes on each other-- and deeply, they both knew something was really, really wrong with the situation.

Kirino Kazunari is Ranmaru's older brother by nearly five years. His hair isn't nearly as long as Ranmaru's is, nor is it nearly as pink-- but if there was one thing they had in common, it was composure.

Seeing Ranmaru break down so easily over a night terror was just-- just impossible. He honestly thought he'd sooner see an alien invasion than this, yet here they are.

He's scared to imagine the contents of that dream.

"Can I leave him with you?"

When Kazunari asks that, it's like he's handing off a grand seal of responsibility. He can see in the way Shindou's eyes shine, his shoulders lift-- yeah, the kid's happy to be trusted with Ranmaru. Who is Kazu to take that away from him?

"Of course," Shindou responds, and as usual, his voice is calm to stifle the excitement in his senses. "It's not as if I can leave, with him clinging to me like this."

Kazunari smiles.

"You're staying for dinner?"

"Ah-- if it wouldn't be a bother."

-

When Kirino wakes up again, he's really hungry.

In his sleepy haze, Shindou leads him around the house, getting him to wash his face before sitting him down and helping the boy put his hair into his usual pigtails.

"They're uneven," Kazu tells him.

"Eh?" Shindou flusters, removing the hair tie and picking up the brush. "Oh-- wait, let me try again..."

Kirino hums. With a sigh, he allows Shindou to keep trying-- because honestly, it's endearing how Shindou is so bad at it-- but he keeps his gaze down and doesn't say a word.

As far as Kirino knows, he's fourteen again. He can feel it in his bones-- they're weaker, and softer. His muscles ache from lying around all day... but that's not why he's feeling so weak.

He's three years back in time, and whatever this phenomenon is, it's not the time machine he's familiar with. If it was, he would have brought his seventeen-year-old body with him, not be sent back into this one.

**He can't feel Brynhildr.**

It's unsettling, to no longer hear her voice-- is it because he's much weaker now, physically? His body might not be able to handle Brynhildr now, so she lay hidden in the fog of his soul.

It would have been nice if she could be here, if only to ease his heart.

"You feel better now?" Shindou sets a hand-- a warm hand against Kirino's stinging cheeks. It was soothing and nice. Kirino manages a smile against it.

"Yeah... I'm sorry for worrying you."

If he's back in time... then something has to change, or things will go on as they did before. There has to be a reason he's back here after that. He needs to, not overcome, but _create_ an interruption point-- and set the rails for a new timeline from here.

How ironic. They spent so long, so much effort, to alter the course of time and return it to the way it was-- and now he's here, and he has to change it again?

(This time, he's alone, too.)

It sounds... so difficult. But they've done it once before... surely it'd be easier now?

"Kirino?"

He lifts his head to look at Shindou.

"What are you thinking about?" Shindou asks him, and the worry is evident even through the game-makers usual stoical expressions. "Are you still strung up by your nightmare?"

Kirino shakes his head, but maybe he is.

(Who could blame him?)

First, he'll have to wait. Maybe soon, Fei will turn up-- and the boy from the future will know what to do about this.

But for now...

"It's just a dream," Kirino tells him, though it's more like a reminder to himself. "It's not going to happen. Then I'll forget about it, and that'll be it."

(...right?)

-

-

Shindou goes home after dinner, and Kirino is left with his brother, who's anything but convinced that he's fine.

Kirino was never one to verbally express his internal turmoil. He was the kind to let it bubble up inside of him until it exploded or was resolved. And Kazunari knew that.

"You're not going to tell me what's wrong, are you?" Kazunari asks, almost rhetorically, "I'm not going to force it out of you, but shouldn't you at least tell Takuto?"

Kirino curls up on the couch.

No sense in hiding anything from Kazunari.

"I can't," he admits, surprisingly easily, "not to Shindou, not to any of the others in Raimon, either. At least... _them_ right now wouldn't understand a thing."

The revolution hadn't even begun yet. Tsurugi isn't an honorary comrade yet, Minamisawa is still in Raimon, and Fifth Sector still controls the soccer world. They had better things to worry about than Kirino's dumb dream that has no logical explanation yet.

The Shindou and Tenma of the future would understand, though. They've been through enough crazy to dismiss little holes like these in favour of finding a solution.

If he was in the future, he'd be able to contact Fei immediately through a communications machine Feida set up for them in the clubroom. But it doesn't exist yet.

Why is this situation so _inconvenient_?

He sighs.

"Ran," Kazu sets a hand on his brother's arm, and their gazes fix on each other. There's a strong, stern anger in his eyes, but Kirino knows it's just him being _concerned_ for him. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Kirino pulls away.

"I know," he says, voice low-- he _knows_ , he knows that Kazu will always be there for hm, even if things don't make sense. That's what brothers were for, after all. But-- "but really, I'm fine now. It's late, so I'm going to sleep. Good night."

And he all but escapes to his room, closing the door behind him.

He adores his brother, really. And he would do anything for someone to _understand_ what he's going through right now-- to empathize with him and become his place of solace.

But no-- it can't be Kazu. Kazu knows nothing about time travel, about aliens, and all the things people shouldn't know until at least another year from now.

He doesn't want to imagine the drastic rift he'd cause in the timeline. Fei'd warned them many times-- he'd shatter the balance and the world might just reset in retaliation.

So he can't drag unrelated parties into the mess-- the more people that get involved, the more the world spins in the wrong direction and the harder it is to keep walking on a straight road.

At this sensitive point of the timeline, and for everything he'll do from now on-- he has to do it with as little possible rifts as he can.

For now-- for now, at least, he has to do it alone.

-

-

He goes for a run in the morning.

He couldn't sleep much. The dreams haven't quite gone away yet, though by now it's a dull ache rather than a throbbing pain.

He finds himself at the field by the riverbank, and he starts dribbling. There always seemed to be a stray soccer ball here... maybe Tenma had something to do with it.

Jogging around the perimeters of the field, dribbling was mostly memory. His muscles needed time to get used to his skills, but it was smooth practice.

His Keshin was out of the question... What about his Miximax? Surely, his aura was the same as it was in the future. He had no way of making sure if his Miximaxed auras were still with him, other than to try.

But as he is right now... would he be able to take Jeanne's power? It worked in a similar way to his Keshin-- if he wasn't strong enough, he couldn't use it.

He looks around-- there's no one around at this hour.

It should be worth a try, at least. Even if it doesn't work, it'll serve as a good study of information...

"Jeanne... is a little too strong, so I'll go for one of the others..."

After the time travelling fiasco, Fei often came around with Feida, for friendly matches or just to visit. Wondeba came around too, and soon enough, people took to composing Miximax combinations between each other, as a form of training. They even dragged Coach Endou's friends into the matter, just for fun.

He takes a breath, and crosses his arms before each other. With a burst of focus, he lets the power rise from his memories, and he _roars_.

His hair ties unfurl, and his hair falls into new spots, flowing out at his fringe and curling inwards at the ends. " ** _Mixi-Trans: Kariya_**!"

He breathes out hard, letting his shoulders fall in relief.

The power flows into him, and his body is so many times lighter. He looks at himself-- and the consistency of his hair is different. It's shorter-- it's a carbon copy of what Kariya's hair is, really. Just... pink.

He can sort of understand why his hair grows longer when he Miximaxes with Jeanne-- but how exactly does Kirino's hair grow _shorter_ when he fuses with Kariya?

All that aside...

"So it still works," Kirino determines, "so if I train a little more, I can probably use the rest of them, too... better not use them in this time frame, though..."

Right. Time to try it out.

He starts lifting. Bouncing the ball from his thigh, to his heel, to his shoulder, and back before him. Then he goes around one more time. He hooks it into the air, does a spin, and catches it at his chest before bumping it to his knees again.

Kirino's always had better ball control, but Kariya's reflexes were always most suited to stylistic practice like these.

This form was the defender that could give Gouenji Shuuya a hard time, after all. Of all the possible Miximax combinations they played around with, this was one of the best. Not because it was strong, but because it was tricky.

As expected-- the Miximax eventually takes a little too much out of him, and it wears off after about a minute of activation. He collapses, laying flat on the ground as he catches his breath-- but at least he knows it's possible now...

"Are you okay?"

Kirino flinches, shooting away and jutting right upward in the direction of the voice. The boy that speaks to him is similarly startled from the sudden movement.

"I'm sorry for surprising you," the boy chuckles when he gathers himself, extending an arm in Kirino's direction, "you just suddenly collapsed, so..."

Kirino really doesn't know what to say.

The boy's wearing casual clothes, unlike the Raimon jersey Kirino is used to seeing him in-- but there's no mistaking that brown hair. Kirino even remembers the extended theories on whether he styles it or if the weird wind-shaped curls are natural....

"Eh? Is that a Raimon gym uniform? You're from Raimon?" the boy evidently brightens, "are you from the soccer club?"

"Ah-- yeah, I am," Kirino takes the boy's hand and lets himself be helped to his feet. "Thanks. Are you..."

"I'm Tenma!" he beams, in the same, alarmingly joyful way Kirino remembers. A sort of hurt passes through his chest, but he shoves it down in favour of the boy's smile. "I'll be joining Raimon today! Nice to meet you, senpai!"

If possible, Kirino just wants the world to slow down for a second so he can respond to things one by one. He's too busy catching his breath to comprehend right now--

"Oh, uh-- nice to meet you too, I guess," he responds automatically, "I'm Kirino, so..."

"Kirino-senpai!" Tenma changes his referral immediately.

Hold on for a second. Hold on for a second.

Kirino tries to ignore the sparkling (he is _actually_ glittering with excitement) first year in front of him as he thinks.

This is Tenma. This is Matsukaze Tenma, a thirteen-year-old (or twelve?), pure and innocent little pegasus boy. He hasn't even joined Raimon yet, hasn't challenged a Seed with a skill that sounds like _Death Sword_ of all things, and hasn't started a revolution to change history a few times yet.

This is Matsukaze Tenma, before he became a windy madman.

Yeah, it's just Tenma, nothing new here-- I mean _WAIT,_ Kirino realizes, _why am I meeting Tenma_ _now_ _?_

He's not supposed to-- he's not supposed to meet Tenma until the match with the Seeds. He's not meant to even _talk_ to him until... a while after that, so...

_It must be because I came here_ , he realizes, _Tenma must pass by the riverbank a lot, since it's near the Kogarashi Manor. He also jogs before school to walk Sasuke.._. _it makes sense that Tenma would be here at this time_.

Ahh, Kirino didn't think this through at all!

"What's wrong, Sasuke? Oh, a phone's ringing on the bench. Is that yours, Kirino-senpai?" Tenma drags the boy out of his train of thought. The dog is barking from the bench area, and sure enough, Kirino's alarm is going off.

"Ah-- morning practice!" Kirino suddenly remembers, "I completely forgot. I'll have to run to make it..." he takes the phone from the boy, muttering a soft thank you before smiling. "I guess I'll see you there, Tenma?"

"You bet!" Tenma grins, pumping his fists. "You should hurry Kirino-senpai! And please don't push yourself again, pace yourself properly so you don't end up like just now!"

"Day one hasn't started and my underclassman is already lecturing me about self-care," Kirino muses. In the future it's the other way around, so he would really call Tenma a hypocrite if he could.

Tenma is looking at him, dead serious with concern. It's nothing compared to Captain Tenma's worried dad glare, but it was certainly the vague dredges of it.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kirino says.

When he leaves for school, waving to the boy and his dog, Kirino has a hunch that this history-changing business isn't going to be as hard as he thinks.

"Ah," he realizes, "that was... the interruption point, wasn't it?"

_Oops_.


	2. farewell to you (the me of the past)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changing the past is sometimes easy, sometimes tough. Little incidents causes rifts, but actual effort makes no changes. It's all quite a pain, really.
> 
> Kirino wants to make a solid difference, and step one is to forget about your own physical constitution. It's do or die-- and he's already done it all once before. What's once more?

"You're really fine now? You look really pale."

"Kirino-kun, if you're not feeling well, you should--"

"Go sit down, Kirino. If Shindou sees you like that he's going to knock you out and march your ass to the infirmary."

"For some reason, I can _really_ see that happening."

Kirino sighs. What exactly did Shindou tell the team, that they're fussing over him already? Shindou's never been the one to stretch boundaries or breach sensitive moments to the team, so he doubts Shindou has told them about the nightmare... maybe he told them Kirino was sick?

"I'm fine," he manages an awkward chuckle, trying not to make it too obvious how his eyes land a little longer on Kosaka, Mizumori and Minamisawa-- _they're still here?_ The first two were supposed to leave the team effectively today, if history goes right-- and Minamisawa, a little further down the road.

Yikes, he really travelled back in time, eh?

"I just overslept a little today so I had to run over," Kirino explains, though they don't look convinced at all. "I'm perfectly fine today, no big deal. Sorry to worry you guys."

Immediately, Kurama declares, "I call bullshit!"

And everyone effectively ignores Sangoku's immediate retort of 'language!!' as they march forward, collectively agreeing with the dark-skinned striker. They all but pounce on him, and even cowardly Hayami (when did he--??) stands at the door to block his escape.

In moments, Kirino is trapped on the couch, trapped between Kurumada and Amagi with a sea of bags around him to impede his route if he dares step out.

Geez, give him a break!

Instead of feeling resigned, Kirino laughs. He rolls to his side and just giggles, because what better feeling is there in the world than this?

"Are you laughing because you're dead tired or are you laughing because you're going crazy?" Hamano asks him, leaning over the couch and pulling at the boy's cheek.

"I'm laughing because we're going to be late and I can just already see Coach facepalming the moment he walks in," Kirino responds easily. He leans back, and just-- just for a moment, he doesn't want to think of anything.

For now, he just wants to be Raimon again, because _everyone_ is here, no one is gone-- except Tenma and Shinsuke who haven't joined-- but they're _together_ and it's so, so warm. So comfortable, it's a good kind of stifling.

"C'mon, Kirino-kun," someone taps him on the head, and Kirino cranes his head upward to find it's Hayami with a comb in his hands. "Get up a bit so I can do your hair."

There's a stunned pause across the room.

Then finally, Hamano breaks out of his stupor first with an unholy yelp. " _Hayami'_ s offering?!" he shrieks, shooting away.

The others take it as their cue to add on. Kurumada just jumps out of his spot, staring down at the redhead like he'd grown another head. "Hayami is _volunteering_?!" Kuramada's mouth drops right open.

"The world is ending!" Amagi wails to the world.

Hayami looks entirely unamused when he responds, "I hate you guys."

Kirino isn't one to be obsessed with whatever state his hair is in, but fair enough. His miximax practice took off the hair ties and he hadn't had the time to tie it back up yet. He could do it himself, but if Hayami is offering, why not?

Like an expert in this field, Hayami only needs one attempt, in a few seconds and incredibly trained movements, and ends up with a perfect pair of pigtails.

He almost looks proud when everyone leans over with exaggerated _woahhs_ at it.

(Just like it is in the future, huh.)

(Hayami and Kirino were always the only ones to put their hair up in _anything_. The girls had field days with their hair if they let them, and after his Miximax with Jeanne, Akane just... had an album full of pictures of his hair for some reason. He's not going to talk about the whole photoshoot featuring Miximax Jeanne and Nobunaga...)

"Hey, what do you think Kirino would look like if he tied his hair like yours, Hayami?" Kurama suddenly suggested, "like, super high."

"Mine are like this because it's too short, Kurama-senpai..." Hayami murmured a little, but he picked up the comb and reached for Kirino's hair anyways, "wanna try?"

Then everyone just blows up. Someone suggests a braid, someone else suggests a bun, and then everyone was fighting over attention. When did Akane come in? Why is she holding her camera? Someone stop her!

Then Shindou walks in, and everyone freezes.

Needless to say, everyone gets thrown out (yes, you too, Akane, you're not supposed to be in here when we're changing anyways,) and Shindou has a nice, long talk to Kirino about letting his teammates treat him like a doll without stopping them.

And it's not as if Kirino couldn't stop them. If this was the future, he'd have _The Mist_ ed away from them the moment his hair was tied again, because they don't have time for this and he has better things to do than be snuggled by a bunch of boys who just discovered Barbie.

But now, he just wants to indulge in it.

He wants to enjoy these times, the peaceful times with the team, where they did nothing but mess around and had fun and do dumb things for what little attention each other had-- he just wants these days to never end. Not again.

Because now, he knows that these days are fleeting.

-

"Heck-- when did you get so good at this, Kirino?"

Kurama scratches his head, whirling back as Kirino steals the ball from him again. Kirino simply smiles, sending the ball to Shindou before waving off the tanned striker.

"I've been practicing."

It's an easy excuse, because it's not as if it's a lie-- his physical abilities aren't up to par, but he's got enough experience in his head to know the striker's tells. All it takes is a little getting used to the pace, and the balls are easy to dig from there. His eyes are more accustomed to faster things, after all.

Each time someone steals a ball, or misses a pass, Kirino really mourns.

Raimon wasn't a strong team-- never was, after the golden age of Endou. There just weren't good enough people to practice with, or a worthy enough competitor to serve as a motivation for it. Soccer was either for their future, or for the fun of it. Scores were set beforehand and considerate coaches count the amount of Hissatsu used so it was fair-- so why practice?

Even after three years, soccer still wasn't as glorified as it once was. Standards for soccer fell through the roof, and Japan stood little chance in the internationals, especially once they got into High school.

That's why the soccer he sees now in them is _weak_. Pitted against an average team three years from now and they'd crumble in seconds. It made sense that Tsurugi's Black Knights (or whatever they were called) crushed them so easily.

"Kirino!"

And the ball is sent in his direction. Kirino flinches first, then takes a short leap back before lunging forward, snagging the ball at his calf. He regains control in two more steps, and he sends it to the nearest midfielder he finds.

Shindou takes a moment before he remembers to call the boy out, surprised by the boy's easy handling of what was almost a missed pass. Then he says, "keep your head in the game!" in hopes it sounds sharp enough as a reprimand.

"Yes," Kirino responds-- and the world is moving again.

Kirino mixes into the crowd, and just for the next thirty to forty minutes, he lets himself be Kirino Ranmaru, Second Year Defender in Raimon Junior High's Soccer Club.

-

Maybe Tenma was right to worry.

In forty minutes, a break is called, and Kirino just collapses in a heavily breathing heap, ready to just sleep right there on the fake grass because it's comfortable, the light is bright and warm, though a little sweltering, but it just feels toasty.

"Are you okay, Kirino?" Kurumada crouches down near him, "Kurama and Minamisawa kinda double teamed you at the end, didn't they?"

"M'fine," Kirino mutters into his arm, "just-- gotta catch... catch my breath. Yeah."

"What's going on?" Hayami leans over, and for a moment Kirino is grateful the boy is blocking off one of the lights directly overhead.

Then Kurumada says, "Kirino's dead."

And Hayami _freaks_. "Shindou-kun! We lost Kirino-kun!"

Kirino bolts upright hands reaching out to Hayami, "no, I'm alive!" And he glares at Kurumada, who just grins back like the asshole he kind of is. "Hayami, calm down-- oh god, Shindou's coming this way. Why are you guys like this."

Shindou looks like a god with the way he's staring down at Kirino, full of authority (that he lost along with his captain band but unlike the captain band, never got passed on to Tenma) and he's observing every inch of the boy.

Kirino is very uncomfortable under that gaze, but Kurumada quietly leaves the boy to his fate instead of helping. Oh, so _that's_ how he's gonna play this? Get Kirino in trouble and then just _leave_? He makes a mental note for revenge and then, turning to Shindou, faces the waves.

"You know better than to overexert yourself, Kirino," Shindou is already in the middle of his lecture, and it's now that Kirino realizes he hasn't been listening at all. "Look-- how about you take a longer break. You're done for this morning."

Kirino stiffens, "you're kicking me out of practice?"

"You've had enough exercise this morning," Shindou returns, unfazed, "in fact, Kazunari-san conveniently told me you were at the riverbank this morning to, apparently, practice on your own. You're going to hurt yourself, so as a _captain,_ " and when Shindou pulls the captain card with a deep emphasis on the word, it's probably serious. "I'm giving you a _break_."

Kirino doesn't even know what to say. The next thing he knows is that he's on his feet, Shindou is shoving him forward-- Sangoku hands them a water bottle, because stay hydrated, please-- and the door is closed behind him.

Yeah, Kirino Ranmaru, for the first time in both timelines, just got kicked out of practice.

He sighs. He can't even be mad.

"This didn't happen the first time around, too," he mumbles, popping the lid of the bottle and taking a grateful gulp of the slightly salty, ice-crusted sports drink. "I just hope nothing too important changes... or should I just let it run its course and see if it turns out fine? Hmm..."

There's an explosion, and a girl screams.

Kirino swirls toward the noise-- and his heart just stops. That came from the second ground, where the Second Team was practicing-- so that could only mean one thing.

When he gets there-- he's a little too late.

"Ichino!" he calls first, because the white-haired captain of the second team is the only one left standing at this point.

It doesn't last. He gives in to the pain, and crumbles to his knees.

"Kirino-kun!" the manager calls out to him when they spot him-- but evidently, they're a little fearful when they find out Kirino's alone, rather than with the rest of the first team.

And Kirino is a little regretful, too. Maybe he should've called the others...

The dust recedes, and standing in the midst of collapsed soccer players-- was Tsurugi Kyousuke. Ichino is so close to him-- and knowing the old Kyousuke, Kirino wouldn't put it past him to finish him off right there.

So Kirino skids down the cliff, makes his way before the Seed-- and his fists tighten.

"What are you doing?" he demands, speaking as lowly as he can-- but he could never be truly angry with Tsurugi. Not after everything they've been through together-- but this... Kirino's never seen what Tsurugi did here. They came halfway, after all.

Tsurugi is a little surprised at the new entrance.

"And who are you?" Tsurugi asks-- "that uniform... you're from the first team. Great, you saved me some time trying to figure out where you guys were."

Kirino keeps himself calm.

"The first team practices in the soccer building," he says, "anyone could've known that if you bothered to ask around. You just wanted to cause a scene, didn't you?"

And Tsurugi shrugs, a smirk curling at his lips. "Maybe," easily, he agrees, "this may be the second team, but I can't believe the standards are so low. Raimon used to be known as a powerhouse. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

It takes a lot of self control to not slap him, but Kirino takes a deep breath and lets it out.

He looks at the managers-- and they get the message. The girls rush around to help the boys get up, and whoever else could move quickly helped each other get off the field.

"You speak big words for a delinquent," Kirino says, poison on his tongue. "If you're done with your _bullying_ , I would like to ask you to leave."

Great timing. The dust from his Death Sword is still here. Kirino's eyes sharpen-- and he calls upon the fog.

" ** _The Mist_**."

Tsurugi reacts a second too late when the mist begins to cloud around him, far too thick to have been natural. The next thing he knows, he's tripped off his feet, and the ball is stolen from him.

Which is _ridiculous_ \-- because, off guard or not, stealing a ball from _Tsurugi_ is not an easy feat.

Kirino breaks out of the cloud, ball under his feet. And Tsurugi stands up.

"So this is the power of Raimon's first team?" Tsurugi muses, entirely unaffected. "Interesting."

Kirino stares him down. Just stealing the ball won't be enough for what Tsurugi's planning on doing-- replacing the team, taking over the club, destroying their soccer-- what exactly was Kirino planning on doing, barging in like this?

Kirino sighs.

"You're strong. Strong enough to take down the whole second team with one shot," Kirino observes, and yeah, it makes sense to assume "you're a Seed from Fifth Sector, aren't you?"

Apparently, it's some incredible revelation. Everyone just gasps in the distance, disbelief clear in their tones. Seriously, Kirino wonders if he was ever like that-- who else in the current soccer world uses force to ensure things go right? Let's take a wild guess, the Seeds? Who else... Aliens. Time travellers. Robots? Oh.

"If you can guess that much," Tsurugi just grins wider, "then you should know what I'm here for. Don't you?"

_You're just here to be a little shit, seriously._

Kirino's temper rises just a little more-- and when he looks at Tsurugi again, he must have been glowering, because for _just a second_ , Tsurugi actually flinches.

"You're here to have a soccer battle against the current Raimon members," Kirino rolls the ball around the balls of his feet to prove his point, "then if you win, you're going to kick Coach Kudou out, replace us... that kinda thing, right?"

" _That kinda_ \--" Tsurugi takes an incredulous moment, then composes himself, "you sound unexpectedly carefree for someone that has no chance of winning."

So it's just as easy to bristle him as it is in the future. Good to know.

"What's going on here?!"

Their attention is turned.

So _now_ Coach Kudou shows up?

-

-

"I'm Tsurugi Kyousuke."

Coach Kudou was here, with the principal and the teacher advisor, confronting Tsurugi. They've barely gotten around to his name and what he did before a familiar voice interrupted the situation.

"Kirino, what are you doing down there?!"

He jolts. _No way_ \-- he turns around, and there's Shindou, along with the rest of the first team.

Unlike the first time, Shindou is breathing hard from a run, and he doesn't look composed at all. Oh... maybe because this time around, the frantic news wasn't that _the second team was being beaten up_ , but that _Kirino was there confronting said assailant_. Made sense... they ran here, like, ten minutes too soon.

_What are they doing here? It's too early!_ Tenma hasn't even shown up yet... oh, he's there beside Otonashi-sensei. _Wait, Tenma, this is your glory moment!_ Why are you over there?!

It's in this distracted moment when Tsurugi charges into Kirino, snatching the ball back as he shoves the defender to the ground.

"Kirino!" there's more than one voice this time.

Kirino fails to suppress a yelp as the elbow digs sharply into his arm. His knees crumble, and he skids, blown back a few paces before he drops, hissing sharply at the remnant pain. That was definitely a bruise...

"What's the meaning of this?" Shindou stands before Kirino, a depth in his tone that made it evident he was _furious_ , "first you mess up the soccer club's sacred grounds... and then you lay a hand on our teammate?"

"Are you okay, Kirino-senpai?"

Tenma reaches Kirino first, crouching down quickly to inspect the wound-- and yikes, it's already a purple bruise. Looks a lot more serious than he initially thought... maybe Tsurugi hit a bad vein...

"Tenma..." Kirino addresses him, "I'm fine, it's nothing." Nope, it hurts like a bitch, but this has got to be true with the other second team members too...

"Here, Kirino-kun," Hayami slides into his view, gently removing his hand and setting an ice pack on the most of the discolouration. Looking positively frantic, he chides, "you're too reckless!"

Minamisawa cuffs him on the head. "Shindou told you to take a break from practice. Not go out and declare war with some maniac."

"I didn't declare _war_ \--"

"Yeah, right," Hamano stares at him with eyes that just screamed _who the hell would believe you_ , "you just stole the ball from right under him, probably. You know in soccer language, that's slang for ' **in your face, idiot**!', right?"

"What even is _soccer language_?!"

This isn't the time to play slapstick comedy... so Kirino turns away from them, and faces the Seed. Tsurugi is joined by a crowd of his own, wearing black and yellow jerseys with the Raimon mark across the front.

"You guys are getting tossed with the rest of the trash," Tsurugi explains very simply, "Raimon soccer club has been deemed a sore point for Fifth Sector, so we have decided to replace you all with a bunch that would be more _compliant_ herein."

Of course, that doesn't pass through well.

"That's _ridiculous_ ," Shindou sneers, and that's a tone Kirino's never heard out of Shindou's worst moods, "you're just a first year, you have no authority to be making such claims-- what makes you think the school administration will permit such--"

"I allow it."

All heads whirl to the Chairman. The man holds up a document-- and though there was no way to read all the contents of it now, all that mattered was the logo of Fifth Sector at the top, and the signature at the bottom.

"I've received the advanced notice from Fifth Sector, and I do not find any problems with the proposition," Chairman Kinzan shared the news, "I would rather much listen to the Fifth's requests than continue to lay myself in positional danger with how _stubborn_ Couch Kudou has been acting recently."

At that, Shindou clicks his tongue, fists balling.

"And that's that," Tsurugi grins smugly, "this is not a request-- it's an order, from the top. This soccer battle will give you a sliver of a chance, not that it's that high of a rate either. You can take it, or you can just leave and save us all the time."

Shindou knows a threat when he hears one-- and it's not often that he's this mad.

Tsurugi didn't need to destroy the old soccer building to rile the captain up this time, and a little part of Kirino is slightly relieved at that.

-

"You want _Matsukaze_ to play?"

Coach Kudou is rarely surprised by anything. This is one of those very moments. All eyes turn to the first year in question, looking various degrees of unimpressed.

"Wait... me?!" even Tenma is flabbergasted by this, though he takes a moment to really register it, "Kirino-senpai, I can't possibly--"

"He's right, Kirino," Minamisawa interrupts, "we barely know this guy to begin with," Tenma winces, "so, skills and all that aside, we're not going to be able to optimize good teamwork with him around."

"Is he even good? He's a first year, right?" Hayami eyes him skeptically, "I think we'll need our strongest members for this..."

"What position, even, does he play?" Sangoku isn't in agreement either, "we can't..."

"We can't half-ass this shit," Kurama supplies the swear words, and Shindou shoots him a look. "We need our starters."

Kirino holds back a sigh. He can't exactly say that it's all going to be useless and they're going to bet on a lousy midfielder whose only great skill is dribbling to scrape out of this barely alive with his pep talk.

Come to think of it, since the formation they're going for is a Shindou-Minamisawa two-top, evidently their focus this round is on balance and passes, rather than offense. Tenma wouldn't contribute anything but mistakes in this case.

So instead, Kirino admits it.

"We're not going to be able to defeat Tsurugi, even with all of us," the moment he said it, a few quipped up sharply in protest. He ignores it and continues, in a softer tone, "he's got a _Keshin_."

All goes shock silent.

Because if it were anyone else, everyone's reactions would be disbelief.

"You mean it's not just a myth?"

"I've never seen one, even in videos."

There was never a reason to use a Keshin in a match before now. Only Seeds had the capability and training to master them, and with the scores being set beforehand, there was no real need to go all out. Everyone was obedient before Raimon's rebellion.

There were doubtful looks from Hayami and Mizumori-- but the rest just looked taken aback. This was Kirino, Kirino who never told a distasteful joke, Kirino who cared for the club, and who never made an unfounded assumption to the whole team without reason.

"How sure are you?" Shindou asks instead.

"Completely," and there's no hesitation in his tone. "He's mastered it."

There's a moment of silence again, then Coach Kudou steps forward, and sets a hand on Kirino's shoulders.

"How do you know that?" he asks, and there's nothing spiteful in his tone. Just warmth, fatherly and filled with confused concern-- it's nostalgic. It reminds him of Coach Endou.

_I can't say I know because I felt that Lost Angel right in the stomach before..._

"I have one too," Kirino admits, and everyone except the Coach collectively shoots back. "It's like a resonance... Tsurugi isn't exactly hiding his, so it's easy to tell."

"Uh, what a Keshin?" Tenma asks, very confused.

"It's an... energy projection," Hamano tries to explain, then gives up and finishes lamely, "it's very strong."

"Well, we've never seen one either, so I'm honestly not sure..." Shindou crosses his arms, looking very uncomfortable-- maybe it's because his best friend has apparently been hiding such a grand secret from him, "I don't think Kirino is lying-- but it's just... Kirino, why have you never told us about this?"

And now it's Kirino's turn to be very uncomfortable.

"Uhhh," he looks away, "my Keshin, she's, uh, still too strong for me to handle, so I've never tried to call her yet--"

"It's a _her_? They have _genders_?" Hayami blurts, "you know-- how do you even--"

That's a very valid concern, but is this the time, Hayami?

Everyone stares at the redhead for a while longer, varying degrees of judgemental, then they turn back to the Defender with questions needing to be answered.

Kirino has a feeling he's just made things unnecessarily complicated right now.

"Enough about that," Kirino says, turning the overall attention back to Tenma, "he should play-- because," he swallows his words-- because _what_?

Okay, screw everything then.

"Because in this field, other than Tsurugi," Kirino says, "Tenma and Shindou are the closest to being able to control their Keshin right now."

This time, there's an additional yell of 'huh?!'. Shindou and Tenma both point at themselves, looking as though they've suddenly found out some lifelong secret they've never known about themselves.

"Wait, I get Shindou, but why this kid?!" Kurama bursts, apparently he believes in Keshin now, he just hates Tenma. "He's a soccer amateur!"

"What about me?" Hamano asks playfully, grinning mischievously, "who else has epic astral stands they can summon, that we should know of?"

Kirino side-eyes him for a while. Yeah, he's not gonna tell him that everyone except Kurumada manages to utilize theirs by the time they get into high school. He's not about to toot this guy's horns yet.

But since they're up against Lancelot, an Earth Keshin like Gigantes or Titanias might really have come in handy... to bad Amagi's still too weak now to summon it, and Shinsuke is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't want to doubt you, Kirino, but--" Shindou stumbles, holding Kirino by the shoulders. Now he's looking into the boy's eyes, evidently knowing something-- something is just off. "I don't... think you should put that much faith in me."

And Tenma flusters, responding quickly too, "me too!" he says, then panics because _what kind of awful interruption is that? Is he stupid??_ But he holds himself up and continues, "I... I'm just an amateur at everything except dribbling! I can't possibly..."

_I can't possibly live up to whatever you apparently expect of me._

"I think it's better if the Raimon starters play, Kirino-senpai," he says, because he knows that's what everyone wants and if possible, that's what he feels most assured doing, "I'm grateful enough that you think I can do it."

And that was that.

Kirino loses the discussion, just like that, and they start their match against the Black Knights just as they did the last time around.

With a one-sided beatdown, and a first half ending at ten to zero not in their favour.

-

Time is a strange thing.

It's fickle, and sometimes stubborn. If you try to change the course of history, little things that don't matter will spiral out of control, but the main issue will remain, denying any form of difference coming its way.

It made strange sense that they had to travel to the _future_ to change the _past_ , because changing it in the _present_ was out of their hands.

Honestly? Kirino's trying very hard to be patient.

He breathes out heavily. The pain in his arm had numbed out, but now there was a throbbing in his head from the lack of oxygen. He lost focus for a sheer moment, and the ball whizzed through the air, headed right for him.

He ducks quickly, but it grazes his face, and _burns_ with friction. He hisses.

Geez, if he was in his three-years later self, he'd snatch the ball right out of Tsurugi's feet in his sleep! And then he'd probably trap him in **_Deep Mist_** for something like ten, twenty minutes-- actually, make that an hour-- as punishment for being a cocky junior.

"What was all that talk about asking me to _leave_ , huh, _senpai_?"

Tsurugi is beside him down, talking him down with a tone that exudes smugness. Really, Kirino would literally _ground_ him.

And Kirino chuckles. Everyone else is down, too injured to play-- really, you call this soccer? Maybe the soccer ban wasn't all that illogical after all. Soccer isn't supposed to be-- isn't supposed to be _this_.

"I guess I'm too weak to win against you, Tsurugi," Kirino tells him, and Shindou swirls on them. Maybe in another situation, the captain would be reprimanding him, because this isn't the time to have a leisurely conversation. But this time, they just listen as the Defender smiles. "You're an excellent player."

And that irks Tsurugi, who clicks his tongue at the words.

Something about being complimented by people he's putting down just feels so insulting. _You're supposed to hate me, curse me. You're supposed to be ridden with anger, not smiling at me!_ Kirino could only imagine.

If Tenma isn't playing, then Shindou's going to need another scapegoat as a motivator.

Kirino stands up. _Guess it'll have to be him, then._ He raises a hand before him, slightly extended in Tsurugi's direction.

"But are you really happy like this, Tsurugi?" Kirino asks him, "using soccer for something like this? I can tell, you know... there's anger in your plays, reluctance in your dribbling... you don't actually want to do this, do you?"

Tsurugi tuts.

"What utter bullshit," he spits. He kicks the ball right into the Kirino's stomach, sending the Defender blowing back a couple paces.

Kirino catches himself, just barely. Then he lunges forward-- _a black and purple wisp bursts from his back, but fades immediately_ \-- and steals the ball from right under Tsurugi's feet.

Kirino turns around and looks Tsurugi dead in the eye.

"Since I'm a defender, that's one point for me, isn't it?" he challenges.

The infuriated look on Tsurugi's face was so maddening, Kirino would've taken a picture and had it framed in the clubroom.

This time around, Kirino's going to put up more of a fight. He knows the pain of a shoot in his stomach, and it's nothing compared to the agony of losing everything.

So Kirino can handle this, even if he has to do it alone.

Power isn't all that wins in a fight, and Matsukaze Tenma has already taught him that very fact in a past life.


	3. in this courage (I believe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first problem now is how to make sure they survive past day one. 
> 
> But surviving day one in the only way they know how to means every change before now resets nearer to the old path, and the trouble thereafter doesn't change. Raimon is still going to crumble into nine members.
> 
> Kirino sighs.

Kirino honestly wonders how he looks to the others.

Tsurugi's kept Shindou mostly unharmed thus far, simply to spite the captain-- so when Kirino stands back up, again and again, Tsurugi found himself facing two stubborn players instead of one standing.

With Shindou at the front and Kirino at the back, they have a formation. But outnumbered as they are, they don't get anywhere.

Kirino finds himself turning internally to Jeanne for help.

If only he could use her charisma, roaring his team back to life with his willpower alone. But no-- he can't use it too often. He's already used one Miximax this morning (a severe miscalculation, on his part) so he shouldn't use it again. The appearance change would really draw some unwanted attention, too.

An elbow digs into his back, and he cries out a strangled noise. His knees lose their energy, and he's thrown off the ground, rolling on the path sharply as the agony just throbs like a shattered organ in his side.

Bruise. Bad.

(But he'll live.)

So he stands up again.

"Stop it, Kirino!" Kurama calls out, worriedly. Wisely, most of them had stayed on the ground, nursing aching bruises of their own-- so evidently, they preferred for Kirino to have some sense of self preservation and do the same.

At the next shot, Kirino catches it with his chest-- and scrambling up for a last fit of effort, Kurumada crashes into his back, and together, they howl against the force.

And they stop it.

The ball eases to a stop in its spins, and falls harmlessly back onto the ground. They both collapse, but it's a step.

"Kurumada," Kirino turns to him, surprised. He really wasn't expecting any help-- but when he catches his gaze, the senior smiles.

"I can't exactly sit around when you're trying so hard, can I?" he smirks, though the pain is evident in his senses. He stands and balls his fists, facing the others. "What are you guys sleeping around for?! Get up, get up, UP!"

...Huh? Okay, this was... out of expectations.

Kirino hadn't said anything important yet. Nothing about how he was going to protect Raimon, or protect soccer, or all that sappy shit Tenma could spew like second nature. He'd just been quietly taking it, aiming for Shindou to break his patience.

"Mine!" Hamano snatches the ball from before them, and he dribbles it forward. He stumbles a little at first, but superb as he is with balance, it doesn't disturb his dribbling. "Kirino's acting all cool on his own, that's not fair!"

Tsurugi is left aghast when the team pick themselves up, shouting varying degrees of agreement. Hamano passes before a Black Knight can reach him, and that's how they continue the fight. Just desperately passing, staying far from the opponents.

Rather than passing, they were kind of playing hot potato with it.

No one touches the ball for more than kicking it right off again, and with how short the passes were and how disarrayed their opponents were in the sudden change of situation, for a good while, they had a whole internal rally of frantic passes.

"Hayami, catch this!"

"Huh? Wha- wait!! Oh my god I almost lost that one-- AAH DON'T COME NEAR ME! Uh, Kurama-senpai!"

"Hey, Hayami, what kinda pass was that?! Minamisawa, heads up!"

"Whu-- I don't want it! Ugh. Mizumori, sending it your way!"

"No! Don't come here! Amagi, take it!"

"Huh!? I'm a defender, don't pass it to _me_! Wait, no one's around-- uh, Sangoku!"

Sangoku catches the ball when Amagi passes it, and there's a moment where everyone breathes again.

They all stand, facing an obviously infuriated Tsurugi. There's still fear in their senses, and they're obviously flinching when he says anything-- but this time, they're standing and looking at him with resolved spite in their eyes.

Kirino basks in the unfamiliar sight.

"Oh man," he says, and his knees give in. He laughs a little, "this is so stupid."

"Oh, so _Kirino_ gets to take a break this time?"

"How about we just _all_ not take unnecessary breaks in the middle of a match..."

"You alright to keep going, Kirino?" Sangoku calls out to the boy, and for a moment, Kirino almost says yes. It's instinct to say yes, especially when everyone else is so determined to keep going.

The score's at fifteen to zero in the second half. There's no way they'd ever win. What matters now isn't scoring, and it isn't winning. It's _surviving_.

They don't have much time left.

When Sangoku passes the ball again, Tsurugi snatches it right out of the air. Kirino winces when the boy turns around.

"Stubborn," he spits the words, "you don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Oh no," Shindou reacts, startled, "he's going to do that again!"

Good old Death Sword, never fails to traumatise a kingdom each time it's used. Really, he wished the older them were as afraid of the Death Sword as they were now.

_No_ \-- he drags himself up a foot, sensing something wrong-- _yep_. Tsurugi only has one hand in his pocket. That's not Death Sword!

"Shindou!" Kirino calls quickly-- but he really doesn't know what he's thinking. What could Shindou do now?

"Raimon is finished!" Tsurugi raises his voice. " **Sword Saint Lancelot**!"

The dark purple aura swirls to life, and the commentator, the crowd, the players-- there's chaos. Kirino honestly can't blame them. He was honestly scared shitless the first time too, but after about two more matches apparently everyone in the world has one now, so he really quickly got used to it.

His eyes meet Shindou's, for a brief second.

Kirino doesn't know how to respond to that. Is Shindou asking him something? For confirmation? For trust? For validation?

He's too far away, and Kirino doesn't have enough energy to yell. He doesn't know what to yell, even.

So instead, he smiles.

And Shindou smiles back.

The Captain turns back to Tsurugi-- and then, he _roars_.

The rest is history.

-

-

-

"Kirino, let's go."

"Ah... alright."

Shindou's unconscious, just like the first time. Makes sense. Forcing your Keshin to come right out of the blue is many times harder than just summoning it-- it's impressive that he managed, actually.

They're all glad the Black Knights have retreated, but Kirino struggles to take it in.

Nothing has changed. In fact, he made changes, and had to forcibly set it back on the original path... somehow. What else might change now, is Tenma not going to be able to summon Pegasus? Is Shinsuke not going to join the club?

"Kirino-senpai, need a hand?"

There's Tenma. Safe and uninjured, wearing his school blazer, Tenma. It's so strange. It's so _wrong_.

Tenma's supposed to be here, staring weakly at the ball as things end anticlimactically. Tenma's supposed to be here, having his glory moment. But Kirino took it. Kirino stole it from him.

Would this still be the Tenma he knows?

"What's wrong, Kirino?" Sangoku is there now. Everyone else followed the coach to the infirmary, the others are headed back to the club room, but Sangoku stayed to look over the Defender that still hadn't moved from his spot.

And Kirino turns his attention back onto the field, and breathes in, breathes out. Yeah. No time to ponder now... He should go to the infirmary and wait for Shindou to wake up.

He sets a hand on the ground, and tries to push himself back up.

"Huh?"

Kirino stares at his knees for a confused few seconds, then he lifts his hand and lets Tenma and Sangoku help him up.

Immediately after, he crashes heavily against the goalkeeper.

"Kirino?!" Sangoku calls out, alarmed. He adjusts his arms quickly, setting a strong arm around Kirino's shoulders to keep him upright.

"S- sorry," Kirino stutters, surprised by himself, but he keeps a hand on Tenma's shoulder too, befuddled. _What's... what's wrong with_... "I think my legs are numb. Sorry I--"

No. _No, this isn't numbnes_ s. This isn't a simple case of pins and needles and weakness after a hard run. _This is-- this is--_

He remembers the lack of pain. He remembers the metal impaling his foot. He remembered the _crushed ankle_ and the _bent knee_ and the _flesh_ that was just a minced lump of ugly, _ugly_ \--

"Matsukaze, right?" Sangoku's voice interrupts his panic, "mind holding him for a second? Let's get him on my back."

"Ah, alright," Tenma responds, also not having noticed Kirino's little bout. "Kirino-senpai, lean on me for a bit?"

"Uh, yeah..."

Maybe Kirino is just overthinking this. Maybe it's just the trauma that affected his thoughts and made him unable to think clearly, logically.

Maybe Kirino just needs a good, long rest right now. He's tired, after all.

Yeah, maybe the stark _unfeeling_ of his legs are just his imagination, because he's too exhausted. Yeah, that must be it.

"Let's get you to the infirmary, too," Sangoku decides.

Kirino manages a weak hum in response. He buries his face into Sangoku's shoulder and tries not to cry. This is nostalgic. Reminds him of the future.

(Sangoku has always been, and will always be, the big brother of Raimon.)

"Tenma," Kirino turns to the first year, who squeaks at the sudden referral, "even after all this... are you still going to join the soccer club?"

There's a split second of surprise in Tenma's features, but it quickly blooms into a radiant smile.

"Of course!" Tenma cheers, "in fact, I think I want to join even _more_ than before, now!"

And Kirino can't help but smile back. Leave it to future Captain Matsukaze to have such overflowing cheer in his senses. Is he made of icing sugar?

"I see," Kirino says weakly, leaning his face deeper into Sangoku's shoulder. "That's a relief." He can feel Sangoku's concerned frown from there, and a part of him is warm. "You should be going for the induction ceremony, then."

And for a frozen second, Tenma's expressions stiffen.

Then he literally _freaks_.

"The induction ceremony!!" he squawks, "I'm gonna be late!"

Kirino chokes out a laugh as Tenma frantically excuses himself, runs off, and is joined by a visibly angry Sorano Aoi in the distance.

Kirino lets his eyes stay on their disappearing figures for a while-- then he sighs, breathing out slowly.

"Sorry, Sangoku."

He forgets the honorific, but the goalkeeper doesn't mention it.

"It's fine," he says. When Sangoku begins walking, Kirino feels the familiar lull of sleep crawl up his senses. "You're still unwell, aren't you? It's been a bad day, so just rest."

His arms wrapped around Sangoku's neck, Kirino can't help but miss this.

"All of you will still be there when I wake up, right?"

All this isn't a dream. This is reality, everyone's safe, everyone's normal, but so much is going to change from now on.

Kirino can't let all that happen to them again. He can't lose them again-- even if he has to lose what they've become to him and start over-- Kirino has to do this.

Kirino has to hold them tight and make sure they're safe this time.

Because this is _his_ team and he's the _Defender_.

"Of course we will," when Sangoku answers, Kirino's unsure if the keeper actually understands the emotional turmoil Kirino is going through.

But it's enough as an assurance.

-

"They're saying it's muscle exhaustion," Coach Fudou assures him, "I'm sure you'll be able to walk again tomorrow if you take the rest of the day off, Kirino."

Kirino doesn't feel too at ease, but there's a flicker of hope in his chest that he doesn't want to let fade. It's temporary. Yes, it has to be. What's the point of time travel if... if his legs apparently don't work? All previous tries at time travel never brought about an aftereffect like this. It makes no sense. It made no sense.

"I think you owe us an explanation, Kirino."

There's Kurama, frank as ever. Sangoku chastises him for his tone, but everyone thinks the same. They close the curtains over where Shindou is resting, and gather around the other bed, where Kirino stretches out his legs and let his sore muscles rest.

"There's something I need to say?" Kirino asks, though he knows exactly what they're wondering and why. "What exactly do you want me to talk about?"

When Coach Kudou draws a chair and sits down before the boy, somehow Kirino thinks he's messed up really bad.

"About Keshin, for starters," he decides, "yours, Shindou's... and the other two."

Kirino doesn't know where to begin.

"I'm a time traveller," he says immediately.

And Kurumada slams a hand on the bed frame, "this is _not_ the time for jokes!" and Kirino flinches from it, slightly guilty about using an easygoing tone on such a serious topic.

_But I guess that rules out any factor that they'd believe in me._

Damn, things were so much easier when they went back further in time. Those people had fantasiacal views on the future, so time-travelling was kind of possible in their minds. But now, in the modern era, time travelling could be a meme, a joke, or something.

Basically, no one's gonna believe you unless you strip soccer right out of existence for a while or something.

"It's like a resonance," Kirino decides to say, "I don't have the ability to master my Keshin yet... but I've managed to realize she was there a while ago... and well, how do you say... she's like an extra resident in my head? I can't really converse with her, it's more like... a sixth sense?"

 _What the fuck am I saying, what in the world am I talking about, what am I doing_ \--

"You're telling me that your Keshin is uh," Hamano manages, "a voice in your head."

"Kirino, are you bipolar?" Amagi asks with a straight face, earning him a smack on the head from Kurumada.

"Does that mean that Tsurugi's got it too?" Hayami asks, "hey, do you think Keshin are named by users or do they already have a name and the users just magically kinda somehow know the name when they first summon it or--"

"Seriously, Hayami?"

Kirino sighs, and everyone stops talking, turning their attention back to him.

"So you're saying," Coach Kudou takes over, "you can sense who has a Keshin that's imminent to awakening, and that is why you wanted to put Matsukaze on the team?"

Kirino nods. _Congratulations, I just won a degree in bullshitting._ Maybe all that hanging out with Tenma was paying off somehow...

The coach stares at him, eyes sharp, narrowed, and skeptical-- and Kirino felt cold sweat gather at the base of his neck. Okay, maybe it _isn't_ working after all? Can the Kariya-stupidity in his head teach him what to do next? Preferably a way that makes him less suspicious? Kirino's probably asking the wrong person.

Finally, after an eternity, he sighs and looks away.

"There are a number of inconsistencies in your reasoning, but I will let it slide for today," and god bless this coach who is too smart for his own good, "get some sleep."

"Yes... sir."

When the coach stands up to leave, everyone else follows. They bid him varying wishes of get-some-shut-eye-dammit (Kurama pokes him between the eyes and Sangoku, very helpfully, shoves him to lie down and makes sure he's tucked in. What are you, my mom?) before they all decide to leave him in the quiet little infirmary with Shindou.

What a turn.

-

Kirino hadn't noticed it at first, but it's there now.

Brynhildr.

It's only when he lies down, mind blank and back rested, that he feels the gentle churn at the back of his mind, an assurance at his chest and the warmth of a gentle hand caressing his cheek.

Maybe describing his Keshin as an extra resident in his head wasn't too far off.

The others may deny it, but Fei still talks to his plush rabbit; Shindou and Maestro always seem to disagree on something; and Tenma treats soccer as a living thing so evidently he has to treat Pegasus like one too. Then we have Nishiki, who is a little too talkative for a warrior like Musashi, so he always gets ignored.

In contrast to that, Kirino's Brynhildr and Kinako's Amaterasu just feel clingy. Maybe it's because they're feminine, but they feel like pushy sisters most of the time. The latter being a spoiled little sister, according to Kinako.

(According to Shinsuke, Titanias has self-esteem issues from how often they can't protect the goal well? And Tsurugi thinks Dad is an insult now because of Lancelot.)

It's subtle and people don't really take notice of it, but to some degree, their Keshin definitely have personalities of their own, and non-verbal conversation, that goes with full understanding both ways, is definitely possible.

It's just something you needed to have a Keshin to understand.

"It's still too early for me to utilize you," he whispers to himself. "I'm sorry, Brynhildr-- you'll have to wait. At least... for a few more months."

_Because I'm not strong enough yet, so you'll be too much for me to handle._

The invisible hand leaves his cheek, and fades away. But the peace and the gentle shroud of her energy remains. It's gentle, it's a lull-- and Kirino can't help but feel safe enough to let himself fall asleep.

-

-

-

**"Doctor Aruno-- are you sure we can't find them?"**

**"They've split off into at least eighteen different directions, and you know better than anyone how broad the world's timeline is. They could be** **_anywhere._ ** **We don't even know if they're alive, Fei. You've seen the state of the bus, even if we find them..."**

**"No! I'm not giving up, I don't care** **_what_ ** **you say! Tenma's... all of them, they're-- they're definitely out there somewhere! We just haven't found them yet."**

**"Fei..."**

**"Please, Doctor Aruno, just-- just let me have** **_hope_ ** **."**

-

-

-

Kirino jerks upright, breathing hard and heavy. He clutches at his shirt, over his too-fast heart, and he just-- struggles to remember.

What was that? What did he see? No... those were voices-- familiar voices.

No, no, he's forgetting. He knows it's important. It's important. What did they say, c'mon, remember, remember, remember!

Doctor Aruno, something about the timeline-- that was definitely Fei's voice. But that's normal-- they're world-class time-travel researchers, after all. They're always talking about the machine in some way or form.

No, could it be?

Are they-- _are they looking for us?_

"Kirino?"

Oh he couldn't get a single minute to panic on his own? Shindou could you just shush-- oh my god it's gone! The dream escaped me! It's gone! I forgot it!

He groans in defeat.

"Kirino," Shindou pulls the curtains away to get a good look, then in another second, the captain is out of his bed and on Kirino's.

"Wait, Shindou, you should stay down--"

"Are you _seriously_ trying to tell me that?" Shindou raises an eyebrow at him, "you're still panicking. Breathe properly first, then maybe I'll humour you."

Kirino pouts a little, but he mourns the lost information for a moment longer-- then focused on calming his heart, slowing his heart rate back to a reasonable rhythm.

Through it, Shindou stays by his side, still weakened from using his Keshin, but not weak enough to forgo staying by Kirino's side.

After a while, Shindou asks, "another nightmare?"

Kirino shakes his head. "Just... confusing," he admits, because really, he doesn't know what to make of it. It's gone now-- "enough about me. You, get back on the bed."

"But I _am_ on a bed."

" _Not mine!_ "

Shindou is unexpectedly stubborn sometimes, so Kirino finds himself scooting over to make space for another figure to lay down. Kirino's sitting up by now, trying to figure out how to move himself to a chair or something so Shindou can have more comfort.

"So, what happened?" Shindou finally asks, "did I... did that guy...?"

"Ah, right-- you don't remember," Kirino recalls this scene very well. "You did it. You summoned your Keshin. It was still kind of incomplete, but I think their coach became interested in you, so they packed up and left."

"Right in the middle of the match?"

"Yeah, I mean-- I'm not one to judge plot convenience if it works."

Shindou gives him a strange look, but Kirino smirks knowingly. He sets a hand beside him, then with a little effort, hefts his legs over the bed. He hooks a chair closer with his foot-- now for the main problem of actually getting on it.

"What's wrong?" Shindou rolls over.

"Oh, uh--" Kirino fumbles a little, "they say I've overworked my legs, so I can't put any energy into them."

And Shindou leaps up. " ** _What_**?!"

Yikes, he's furious.

"Is it serious?" Shindou tries to get up again, but this time Kirino leans over and puts his whole weight into making sure the boy stays down. "Kirino--"

"It's fine-- coach says I should be fine if I rest up for the rest of today," Kirino assures him, but in the way he averts his eyes at the end, it's clear that Kirino himself barely believes in those words.

After all, any leg injury is vital to the career of a soccer player. Kirino remembered very clearly the day Kazemaru had to officially quit playing soccer for his team, because the displacement in his ankle was permanent and interfered just too much for him to live up to standards.

(It had been a grim day-- but now, his soccer spirit lives on in Kirino's and Endou's soul, and though they can't Miximax in official games, it's still widely known as a force to be feared in Japan.)

"Kirino, Shindou-- oh come _on_ , you two."

Minamisawa walks in on their very uncompromising positions, and he just throws his hands into the air and does a u-turn.

Kirino flushes, shooting away from Shindou and reaching out for the purple-haired striker, "Minamisawa, don't you dare--"

In a moment of agitation, Kirino forgets his legs have no energy, sets his feet on the ground-- then he collapses like a broken toy with cut strings. His foot just _twists_ , and his field of vision turns a whole hundred eighty, somehow.

He yelps in surprise, half onto the chair, tumbling past the bed frame on the way down. His face knocks against the metal, and he hisses, more out of surprise than pain.

"Ow, ow..." he holds his face, where he's sure is going to be red.

"Kirino?!" Minamisawa whirls right back, previous situation forgotten as he runs up and crouches down-- he sets a hand around Kirino's neck like a support, bringing the defender's face closer to inspect for open wounds. "Don't move. Did you hit your head?"

Good, no bleeding or anything.

Kirino laughs a little. This part of Minamisawa, which everyone's really missed, was truly what reigned Kurama in, in most situations. The slightly motherly voice of reason with a sarcastic flair. With said striker in Gassan Kunimitsu, it's really been a while. "I'm not even dizzy, it's just a bump."

So no concussion? Okay.

Minamisawa helps the boy up, slinging an arm heavily over his shoulder so Kirino could clamber up to the chair.

"I'll pretend I didn't see whatever you guys were doing before I came in," he says, blatantly ignoring their flustered comments of 'we weren't doing anything!' in lieu of a serious moment. "Shindou. Things are getting serious, so you should come to the club room. Everyone else is there, too."

A silence overtakes, and Kirino feels his heart sink.

Shindou's hand clenches over the bed sheet, and he steps out of the bed. It's clear exactly what is happening. Even though they've averted the crisis for now, it's clear that Fifth Sector wants them gone.

It was no longer safe to be a member of Raimon's soccer club.

"I'll go," Shindou says, like he's agreeing to a death sentence of some sort-- his expressions are grim and his body language is tight. He gives Kirino a sad glance. "I think you should stay here and rest, Kirino."

Kirino almost leaps out of the bed like an idiot again, but the simultaneous jolts from Shindou and Minamisawa (who is absolutely prepared to catch him this time) reminds him to stop. Instead, Kirino tuts.

"I'll go too," he says, vainly, "I should be there."

To what? To witness the biggest embarrassment and downfall of the club? To see Shindou slowly break down into pieces? He can't do that, he can't even walk.

And Shindou senses his conflict.

"Stay here, and I'll call your brother to pick you up," he says, "I'll tell you what happened today later. I'll stop by your house. Okay?"

Kirino wavers a little too long, because the next thing he knows, Shindou and Minamisawa leave the room, and he's alone in the empty infirmary.

-

For a very long while, Kirino just doesn't say a thing. He doesn't move, doesn't go-- he just waits, not really thinking of anything.

_Nothing's changed since last time._

Yeah, maybe that's fine, too. It'll be a pain to get through the resistance and take over Fifth Sector again, but at least he knows soccer will be saved and things will get better after that.

The bus accident doesn't happen until three years down the line. It's fine if he waits until the bare minimum, right? Nothing really needs to be changed back here, where life is relatively peaceful and everyone is okay, alive, and fine.

If he just lets this all happen again, it'll be putting everyone through the wringer that made them stronger, It's for a good cause.

(Who is Kirino to decide what's for the better cause, though?)

His fists close.

(Who is Kirino to just leave things as they are, though?)

He turns to his bag, and retrieves a notebook.

(Who is Kirino to waste this golden opportunity?)

He clicks down a pen, and his hands begins to write. He doesn't think of what to write-- his heart knows what he should be taking down, what he should begin to concern himself with.

The Resistance. The members. The former Inazuma Japan.

The Team. Tsurugi, his brother-- the Seeds, and which of them ever had a change of heart in the future. There was also Taiyou, and Mahoro. And Minimisawa.

The matches. When did everyone start cooperating? Around the end of the Mannouzaka match... so the second match of the Holy Road tournament. Teikoku was the third match, and that's where they met the Resistance.

That takes too long. What in the world has the Resistance been doing all the time before that? Just watching Raimon fall apart?

Tenma will incite the revolution with their next practice match against Eito. It'll take Shindou until the next match to decide fully. It'll take Sangoku until halfway through _that_ second half before he joins. It'll take halfway through the _next_ match for Tsurugi to have a change of heart along with everyone else, but then Tsurugi doesn't join well until the second half of the match with Teikoku.

Just thinking about it made him want to rip his hairs out in frustration.

Even after the revolution succeeded, there were reformation programs that had to be implemented all over the place, all over the country. It took so long, that even three years later there were still holes that had to be filled.

There was definitely a gap in power without the aid of Miximax and Avatar Armed (both which were now heavily restricted in official games,) and it was a hole that cost much of Japan's former prestige in the soccer world.

Really, the list of pains in the ass is getting longer.

So the answer is clear-- it might not be bad for things to go how they did before-- but if things could be better, Kirino believes that he has a responsibility to see the possibilities through. He's not the smartest-- but if there's something he _is_ , it's _level-headed._

Yeah, he can do this. He has to.

To prevent that worst case scenario from happening again, ever-- he's willing to do anything at all. Even if nothing now would ever be the same again, it's a risk he's willing to day, a sacrifice he's willing to make.

What more, really, can he begin to lose?


	4. bring forth (the wind of revolution)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The butterfly effect proves to be working, so Kirino takes larger, bolder steps forward.
> 
> Then his legs give out in practice for the second time in two days, and he begins to realize that things aren't as simple as they seem. This fixing the future thing won't be easy, and he's just starting to realize it now.

“Could you stop giving me heart attacks when I’m busy working? If I die and leave you alone, Mom will get mad at me.”

Kirino feels strangely comfortable being on his brother’s back. He’s really too old for this, physically and especially mentally, but it just puts him at ease. It feels like peace.

Especially when he remembers his brother barging into the infirmary a while ago-- disheveled, hard of breath, in a visible panic-- it just makes him kind of happy.

“Hey, Kazu,” Kirino speaks up, hands hanging loosely at his brother’s shoulders, “thanks.”

“What’s with you? Creepy,” Kazu responds quickly, stopping to cast his brother a strange, high-browed look. “Should I just drop you here?”

And Kirino shrinks, wrapping his arms around his neck and squeezing tightly in retaliation, “no!” he laughs. “I’ll tell Shindou.”

And Kazu visibly grimaces.

They walk home, calmly, a gentle hum at their throats, basking in the sunset. They were silent for most of the way, but it was warm, and Kirino was asleep before they got back to their house.

Kazu’s face scrunches into a frown.

-

**“Coach Endou,** **_I trusted_ ** **you!” Kirino throws himself onto the ground, on his hands, wailing in defeat, “I** **_trusted_ ** **you.”**

**Endou chuckles awkwardly, scratching his cheek, “I’m sorry, Kirino, I, uh--” he looks away in shame, “got a little too caught up.”**

**“Sorry, I guess I got a little too carried away, too,” Sangoku rubs the back of his head, shameful.**

**They’re covered in dirt from head to toe, and from the looks of it, they’ve been here since daybreak. Kirino said today was a day-off goddammit can they take a freaking day off without causing mayhem** **_please_ ** **\--**

 **They all stare at the utter mess of the soccer field, where valleys of mountainous soil and high cliffs fissure the landscape. Wherever there isn’t a mound, there are craters, as if a meteor shower had struck. All that, of course, ruins the grass-- effectively it’s going to render all of them without an outside field tomorrow.** **_Again_ ** **.**

**Kirino lays on the ground, utterly in despair. He thought at least the** **_coach_ ** **would be sensible but** **_no_ ** **, he’s the worst of the lot!**

**“But hey!” Endou balls a fist, grinning, “I finally managed to do** **_Fence of Gaia GX_ ** **using my Mixi-trans with Sangoku!”**

 **“That’s right,” and most appalling of all was the fact that Sangoku was proud of this achievement too, the goalkeeper actually sparkling with a sense of accomplishment, “I mastered** **_Hammer of Wrath V3!_ ** **Miximaxing with Coach Endou is seriously the best decision in my entire** **_life_ ** **.”**

**Kirino casts them both a cryptid look. How is it that they can shine like that after causing dramatic change in the infrastructure? Are they psychopaths? Is that it?**

**Then he cries into the dirt again.**

**Why is this his life?**

-

Kirino thinks he’s sleeping a little too much these few days. He doesn’t really understand why, though. It’s not as if he’s really sleepy or anything…

“Are you sure you don’t mind me imposing again?”

“You’re practically my son now Takuto, accept it already.”

Shindou gives Kazu a weird look, but the oldest among them just hums, twisting the stove to light and getting a pot of water to boil.

Kirino groans a little curling further into the couch. His hair ties are in the way and he’s sweaty…

“We drew a bath for you if you want to get in.”

Kirino groans softly, because it’s too hot here for him to curl in any longer. It’s been one hell of a day and really, he just wants to soak all his worries away.

But he doesn’t get up, not that he could crawl out of the sofa anyways.

He turns to Shindou-- Shindou’s sitting on the carpet, right by the coach Kirino is lounging on. He’s facing the TV where a news report was detailing some random news-- and with the way Shindou’s hands are playing a strange scale on the table, Kirino can tell that he’s distracted.

Kirino loops his arm around Shindou’s neck, and hums into his hair.

“So what happened with everyone else?”

He can feel Shindou stiffen, and it’s a strange coincidence that Kirino’s held on to him so he can’t run. Must be instinct by now. Tsurugi _did_ love to run from his responsibilities…

“I can guess,” Kirino starts, since he knows it’s hard for Shindou to say it outright, “a lot of people quit, didn’t they?”

Shindou’s shoulders sink, and for a moment, Kirino is surprised. The pianist’s fists tighten over the table, and a very heavy sigh lowers in his chest.

“How many?” Kirino asks him.

“Almost all of the second team,” Shindou says. Kirino freezes. “Ichino almost went, but he came back. He said he… didn’t want to go when you weren’t there. He says thanks for saving him this morning, by the way… Kirino?”

Kirino’s eyes are wide.

He sits up, the shock so clear in his senses and his fist tightening over Shindou’s shoulder sleeve. Shindou isn’t too sure which part of what he said made him so horrified.

“Ichino’s… still here?” Kirino asks slowly, and Shindou nods.

“Yeah…” Shindou responds, wondering if he should stand up since Kirino looked so unsteady, “He’s the only one left of the second team. Mizumori and Kousaka quit too, so Coach was talking about advancing him into the first team…”

“That’s… that’s weird,” Kirino says a little above a whisper, holding his head, “Ichino… stayed? But Aoyama didn’t.”

That’s wrong. No, not wrong, just-- _different_.

He helped Ichino this morning. Maybe everything that happened in difference made Ichino feel a lot worse about abandoning the soccer club than last time around. Ichino has always been one that conforms-- so Kirino feels a little proud to know that he made his own choice this time.

It’s subtle, but the differences are there. Kirino isn’t making a huge change in history yet-- but it’s there. The butterfly effect.

The ripples are only going to get bigger from here.

“Yeah… those two are always together, aren’t they?” Shindou entertains the thought, then stands up and sets a hand on Kirino’s forehead, “are you feeling okay? You’re acting weird. Is it that nightmare again?”

Kirino blinks up at him.

Maybe the nightmare is a pretty useful excuse, after all. It seems to explain a lot of weird stuff about him, and Shindou doesn't chase after details.

“So there’s... “ Kirino counts in his head, “ten of us left?”

Ten. Ten, not nine. There’s an extra in the amount-- and it’s a _world_ of a difference. And although that can't be right, Kirino can’t help but feel so happy.

History can be changed, he realizes, not for the first time. Even such a solid, vital piece of history like Raimon’s revolution-- surely, it can change.

He just has to try.

-

-

-

It’s the next day, six in the morning.

“Going for a run!”

“Ranmaru, NO!”

He’s going to give his brother gray hairs one day, and they all know it. But who could blame him, really? He’d spent almost twelve hours yesterday just sitting around immobile. The moment he realized he could walk again this morning, he ran.

It’s strange.

Yesterday, a single step felt like he was stepping on a thousand needles, spikes travelling up the way through his bones and into his knees.

Once morning came, it was like the pain was never there. There was no pain, just the strain of muscle and the desire to run harder, faster, stronger.

And that was what he did.

(Something was off. But things were fine for now.)

“Kirino-senpai!”

He’s not too surprised to find Tenma at the riverbank again today. He seems to be practicing his dribbling, from one side of the field to the other.

He stops midway, looking up to the senior.

“Is your body alright now?”

Kirino skids down to the field, and sets a hand on Sasuke’s head. He smiles at his junior, because younger or not, it’s always nice to see Innocent Pegasus Boy in the morning.

“Perfectly,” Kirino assures him, “it was just exhaustion yesterday. I heard what happened in the club… are you training for the entrance test?”

“Yes!” the boy brightens considerably, “I’ll do my best! Oh, oh! You see, I met someone from my class yesterday, his name’s Shinsuke--”

Kirino feels a sort of strange deja vu. Tenma’s acting like an excited child telling their mom about their day… _wait, does that make me the mom?_ Oh no. We’re like, three years ahead of schedule already.

Kirino listens contentedly to Tenma explain his wondrous meeting with a tiny first year named Shinsuke, and how they fanboyed over Keshin and soccer together (and we embarrassed ourselves during the Entrance ceremony) while agreeing to join the soccer club together with Aoi (ah, she’s my childhood friend by the way--)

At this rate, Kirino’s gonna need sunglasses to talk with him, he actually shines. Was this why Tsurugi got a tan after Junior High? Because he was exposed to this sunshine too much?

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Tenma,” Kirino assures him, and some maternal instinct makes him want to pat the boy on the head. He does, and Tenma sparkles. Kirino groans. “Don’t stay out too late, though. Make sure to get to school on time.”

“Okay!” Tenma beams. Kirino can hear the _Ranmama_ without him saying it.

If cinnamon rolls could kill, Tenma would be a mass murderer.

-

“Kirino!”

The reaction today is similar to yesterday. Everyone gathers around him, fusses at him, worries about nonexistent injuries, tries to get him out of practice-- but this time, Kirino is prepared.

He swings out a **_The Mist_** right at the doorway, and magnificently deposits himself at his locker and begins to change for morning practice.

“I heard what happened yesterday,” Kirino confronts them, and he can see all their faces fall in shame. “Hey, you guys-- why did you stay?”

And Minamisawa sighs.

“I mean… it just kinda happened,” Kurumada considers, “everyone was just leaving one after another-- and the atmosphere… it just felt wrong to leave.”

“Fifth Sector has their eyes on us… they were planning on replacing all of us, anyways,” Hamano waves a hand around dismissively, “you know how strict they are with matters like this. It’s just…”

“Not safe to be here,” Hayami finishes moodily, “even if they don’t ruin us directly, they’ll probably dunk the club instead, and in the end we’ll still be ruined.”

“Then why are you still here, Hayami?” Amagi says sharply, and the redhead squeaks, shrinking away behind Hamano, who chuckles.

“It’ll look good on our records, for one,” Minamisawa says, and from his tone, it’s not the first time he’s justified himself with that reason, “I’m graduating this year, so if I bear with it a little longer, I’ll be free from this mess and still have the jottings to show.”

And everyone visibly sinks a little deeper into their shoulders.

“I--” Ichino speaks up, then flinches when all eyes turn to him. He looks away, “I just... it’s not like I can’t understand them for running… but I still want to do something for the club. This place… it’s corrupted, but… the club still means a lot to me. I don’t want it to disappear.”

“This isn’t the time to spew sentimental nonsense,” Kurama mutters audibly, “is that first-year affecting you too, Ichino? Didn’t you hear him-- _I feel sorry for soccer!_ Or something,” he imitated mockingly.

“Hey, Kurama!” Sangoku chastises him, and the boy turns away defiantly.

Shindou stands before Ichino, and a ghost of a smile is on his way.

“Thanks,” he tells the boy, “but-- I don’t think the club can last any longer, even if we try. I can try to protect it… but there’s so little I can do.”

Kirino breathes out slowly, taking in the situation.

Shindou and Sangoku want to save the club, but they don’t want to force anyone to face Fifth Sector. Kurumada and Hamano are true neutrals, but would lean in Fifth’s favour to avoid trouble to themselves. Hayami is only staying because of some sort of impulse, and Amagi is slowly being pulled toward the negative side of the battle.

(What a pain.)

“Then,” he speaks up, enjoying how everyone turns their attention over when he smirks uncharacteristically, “want to start a revolution with me?”

-

Battle Flag Bearer, Brynhildr. She incites the resistance with her charisma, calling upon the forces and giving them the power to stand together as one iron wall of defense.

(Or something like that.)

People say that Keshin are an astral depiction of your fighting spirit, in the same way your hissatsu and Soul are. Kirino is a caller of charisma, but he never dabbled much in that field until he met Jeanne, so his Keshin awakened much later.

One in many steps to awaken your Keshin is to bring yourself closer to that spirit. Similar to how Shinsuke woke his Keshin with his desire to protect Raimon’s goal, and Kinako who awoke hers with her desire to watch over Fei, even from too far above the sky.

Not that anyone’s able to know what that ideal is before they actually see it, but Kirino can now. It’s like a cheat-- a very minor and small cheat, but a cheat nonetheless.

Kirino’s not going to risk summoning Brynhildr just yet, though. Don’t want to end up like Shindou yesterday.

So when he speaks up to the team, the reactions are just as expected.

Generally, pure shock, a few exclamations of disbelief, and Shindou actually walks over to check for a fever. He reports negative, and Hayami pinches himself. It hurts. It’s not a dream.

Then what?

“This is terrible,” Hayami buries his face in his hands, “Kirino’s lost it.”

Kirino sets his hands on his hips and huffs. “I’m serious,” he says, “you all saw what happened. Fifth Sector meant to destroy all of us and make us all quit. So why are we still in this club, why do we play soccer?”

Wow, Kirino’s got some mad speech skills now. Must be all the miximaxing with dramatic people, he’s getting affected down to his psyche.

“Isn’t it because we want to play soccer normally again?” he says, “do you really think they’ll let us play soccer, when they’ve gone as far as to want to replace all of us? I think we’ve all had enough already. This system needs to change. What’s the point of a soccer club if we’re just appearances and no game?”

Everyone looks at Kirino with surprise. A whole uprising is still too far out there-- they're just kids, dammit. As if this kinda shit has seriously crossed their minds before.

But surely, someone’s thought of it before, even in spite.

In fact-- if Minamisawa never left, Kurama may have been the first one to start it. He was a sore loser like that, after all. He probably stayed on the other side for so long simply because Tenma was the one inciting the revolution.

“Kirino, I think you should calm down,” Minamisawa looks at him weirdly, “are you even hearing yourself?”

“I mean… I can’t say I’ve never thought of wanting the system to change,” Hamano agrees, “I’m sure everyone’s thought of it, once or twice. But look at us. Raimon’s nothing compared to our reputation and our glory days. And we’re still kids, you know? All of it’s just too idealistic for us.”

When Hamano says that, most of them agree.

It’s not that they want to blow off Kirino, but it just isn’t like them to think up crazy ideas like overthrowing the current government with a little rebellion. They’re not politicians. Raimon’s almost been replaced once. They sure as heck can do it again if they try anything bad.

So why did the revolution succeed? Is it because it was small at first, and Fifth Sector continued to try and take them off subtly, thinking score orders would work? Then it got too big to be handled slowly, so they sent in Dragon Link?

Surely, if they all turn at once this time, they’ll just send Tsurugi in again to fight them off. And this time, they won’t let them off just for having Shindou around. They might just snatch him and send him off to God Eden or something, then kick everyone else out.

“Shindou, you say you’re going to protect the soccer club,” Kirino turns to the captain-- “but can we really call this a soccer club?”

He sees Shindou’s fists tighten, and Kirino knows he’s pushing it. It’s not like him to antagonize Shindou at all. Kirino’s always been the kind to quietly go along with him, no matter who’s in the right or wrong.

“What exactly are we trying to protect by staying?” Kirino asks. “Isn’t it _our_ soccer?”

He lets the question hang there.

A moment later, the coach comes in to deliver his morning words, and they make their way to the field, where they begin a very distracted, very half-hearted morning practice.

Talk of the revolution doesn't come up again, but the seeds are sown.

-

“It’s… difficult.”

Ichino and Aoyama are still best friends despite what happened, so when Shindou wants some time alone, Kirino goes to see the white-haired player.

“None of them know a _thing_ about Fifth Sector, and they’re saying whatever they want!” he lets his anger take over him for a moment, then he sighs.

There are plenty of rumours around about it. The Raimon soccer club lost against one first-year! They were totally owned, they’re weak. There’s no point in joining a club like that, it wouldn’t even look good on your student record.

(Kirino rolls his eyes. Things were like this back then, huh.)

“That’s why we left,” Aoyama mumbles in his own seat, “it’s better to be part of the oblivious than suffer as part of the knowledgeable. It’s not worth it, Ichino.”

“Even so,” Ichino tightens his fist, “I just… don’t want the club to end like this. There’s more we can do. There’s definitely--”

Kirino leans forward on the table, and speaks in hushed tones.

“There is,” he says, and he delights in the way Ichino and Aoyama simultaneously jerk to attention, turning around in their seats as Kirino pulls a chair over. They huddle around in a discussion circle.

Ichino is the Second Team’s captain, even in the future, and it’s not without reason. There are plenty of captain-like characters on their team, but Ichino’s the only one of all of them that can be trusted with the Second Team’s progress.

That’s exactly how Kirino knows he can trust Ichino, and in extension, Aoyama, with things like this.

“There’s one thing we can do, even as children,” he says, “and especially because we’re former soccer club members.”

Ichino stays confused, but from the way Aoyama’s eyes light up and he shoots back like he’s been burned, Kirino reckons he’s gotten it.

Aoyama had a weird fanboy attitude toward detective stories and the such. He was analytical enough to (very ironically) steal **_Trace Press_** from Minaho, after all. And definitely, that can come in handy now, especially when he’s free of the liability of being a member of the infamous Raimon Eleven.

Kirino aside, Aoyama is effectively out of Fifth Sector’s radar. That meant he had freedom. And freedom, in a certain sense, meant safety.

Kirino smiles. “We can create a _scandal_.”

-

-

-

The entrance test for Tenma and Shinsuke went just as expected.

“Kirino--”

“What, Shindou? I don’t talk to bullies.”

“Wha--?”

Kirino makes it very clear that he doesn’t like what Shindou is doing. Being weak, cowering in the face of their peril-- it’s understandable. Shindou’s under so much pressure right now, the last thing he needs is for Kirino to give up on him.

So Kirino’s going to do it.

“I’m going on a date with Ichino today,” Kirino holds the boy by the shoulders, and Ichino squawks. “So you can wallow in your misery with your cats and I’m going home by myself. Bye bye.”

“No! Don’t bring me into your lover’s quarrel!” Ichino freaks out, and is promptly ignored. “Shindou! Don’t believe him! Please chase after us crying tears of apology! Please! Shindou, no!”

It’s at that moment that Tenma cuts into the scene, barreling into the two seniors with a running hug.

“Kirino-senpai! I passed the test!”

With a sharp yelp, they all crumple into a mess of bodies, and Ichino lays face-down on the ground, just dead. Tenma clambers up and sits beside the pile, like a proud idiot.

“Yes, Tenma, I know, I was there,” Kirino says, a little dizzy from the fall. He pushes himself up, and, looking over, he wonders if Ichino is still alive.

“I’ll introduce you! This is Shinsuke!” he points at the boy beside him, who’s equally as muddy and full of scratches as Tenma is. Then he gestures at the girl behind them, “and that’s Aoi. I told you about them this morning.”

There’s a moment when Kirino smiles, rather contentedly at the boy-- then an aura of seething darkness envelops them and Kirino turns around to see a furious Shindou.

“This morning?”

Even for Kirino, this is the first time he’s heard Shindou sound so angry.

Ichino clambers up immediately, apparently alive now. He grabs Tenma by the arm, because an unknowing junior is an innocent junior, and thus he does not deserve to be in the face of Papa Shindou’s wrath any more, and they bolt for the clubroom.

“You were supposed to rest!” Shindou snaps at Kirino.

With a whine, Kirino is somehow the one in for a lecture now. It’s only later that Kirino sighs contentedly to himself, because at least Shindou isn’t obsessed with his despair anymore.

-

-

-

For some reason, Aoyama is really, very into this.

“Maybe we can mention how our skill level is much weaker now than any record three years ago? We can compare our individual stats and say how it doesn’t line up.” Aoyama brings up a list, “Fifth Sector came around two years ago, right?”

“There are many instances of players just standing there without fighting back,” Kirino continues, “we did that in a lot of practice matches last year. If it’s too often in a lot of people I’m sure we can cause some sort of public interest. I’m sure Akane has some footage, so we should ask her tomorrow.”

“What? Why would she have stuff like that?”

“She takes pictures of very weird things, Aoyama, you ought to stop questioning it.”

Newspapers and all sorts of other papers are strewn all about Kirino’s room, and Aoyama crawls over half of it with a red marker, while Kirino makes the proper jottings in his books for future reference.

Ichino stares at them for a very long moment.

Then he excuses himself, and goes to sit on the couch as Kazu serves him a cup of coffee.

“So, what’s going on in there? Some interesting group project?” Kazu questions, and Ichino thanks him for the coffee.

“Yeah…” Ichino takes a careful sip, “they’re trying to form a conspiracy to overthrow the government.”

Kaze stares blankly for a moment. “You don’t look the type, but you sure can tell some funny jokes, huh?” he muses.

Ichino laughs nervously. “Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

If only.

-

It’s midway through practice when it hits him.

Kirino stumbles when Minamisawa steals the ball from him, and he falls to one knee. He gets up quickly-- or at least, he tries to. The strength completely leaves his feet, and he catches himself on his hands, scraping his elbow as he tries not to eat the soil.

Minamisawa swirls around surprised.

“My bad!” He says first, thinking he’d shoved a little too hard there, “you alright, Kirino?”

He’s not.

Kirino gets on his hands and knees again, and this time, he’s stuck. He’s staring at the ground-- not too sure if he remembers how to get up anymore.

“What’s wrong, Kirino?”

There’s Shindou, and Kirino looked up. A sinking realization sets into the pit of his stomach, and suddenly, he feels like crying.

“I can’t stand up,” Kirino says.

He can see the moment Tenma and the others from the opposing side come over, faces filled with worry. Kirino sits on the ground with his legs sprawled out a W.

There’s no feeling, just numbness.

“Something’s wrong,” he says.

And it’s unnatural. Just like when they fought against the Black Knights two days ago-- there’s no reason for his feet to suddenly lose their energy so completely. It’s just… logically speaking, it’s impossible.

So what could be the explanation for this?

(Whatever the time-travel nonsense that brought him back this time, it’s definitely not the classic process he’s familiar with.)

(Because the shattering his legs went through are still there.)

(Healed, but not fully.)

(There was no reason for it to be healed in the first place.)

(Who’s to say this body isn’t borrowed time?)

“Kirino, take my hand.”

And he lets the others help him up and lead him to the benches. Haruna and the managers look him over, but they can’t think of anything wrong.

Minamisawa is looking very guilty, as if any of this was his fault at all-- it really isn't and Kirino is going to punch him if he keeps that up-- and the rest of the team just look painfully concerned.

Shindou puts a hand on his shoulder, and Kirino looks up.

“Are you _really_ okay?”

Kirino just sighs. He’s not going to say yes when the answer’s obvious. It doesn’t hurt, nothing’s wrong-- but this could really impact his future.

He closes his fist tight.

“I’ll bring him to the hospital for a check,” Coach Kudou decides, “the rest of you, continue practice.”

-

In moments, Kirino is in a car, his belongings packed and his brother called.

Shindou insists on coming along at first, even pulling the captain card on the situation-- but Coach Kudou bats his opinion aside easily.

He lasted longer in practice today; the whole of morning practice, and halfway into afternoon practice.

But he lasted the whole day yesterday; morning practice, then the whole of Tenma’s entrance exam, though he didn’t play much with Shindou hogging the plays.

Then what about the Black Knights? He lasted the whole of the match and that was it, though he was playing a one-man show at the time, including the self-practice at the riverbank earlier in the morning.

Then the next day he’s back to normal.

(That’s it. It’s not about how long he plays, but how _much_ he plays.)

His legs are on a set quota of effort he can put in each day, and once he hits the limit, that’s where it ends. They just… _stop working._

(This makes no sense, but there’s no better way to explain it.)

He looks out the window, and he grits his teeth. He remembers the horrendous view of his legs crushed and impaled under debris-- is this mercy, or a cruel joke?

What sent him back? It’s an incomplete device, that much is true. His injuries remained, though only traces. That meant this wasn’t his actual fourteen-year-old body. And this definitely isn’t his seventeen-year-old body either. He’s the wrong height, he has his Miximax, his Keshin, his knowledge, his memories.

So his body is… it’s a _fusion_ of them both. Of the broken and the weak.

(He’s not too sure what that means yet. Can Fei come in and tell him more?)

(Fei, Fei, where are you?)

Kirino tries not to sigh too loudly. Instead, he wonders if his brother’s going to have his third heart attack of the week and attempts to think fond thoughts.

-

**_AOYAMA:_ **

So did u die

**_ICHINO:_ **

Aoyama for the last   
FUCKING time, no.

**_KIRINO:_ **

Kinda feel like it tho

**_ICHINO:_ **

Ranmama no

**_KIRINO:_ **

Dun call me that pls

****

**_AOYAMA:_ **

Ranmama

**_ICHINO:_ **

Ranmama

**_KIRINO:_ **

Y ru guyz like this

**_AOYAMA:_ **

So r u dead or dying  
Idk the situation

Btw Ichinos scremin

**_ICHINO:_ **

No ominous phrases  
r allwd here tqvm

**_KIRINO:_ **

I wanna kms

**_ICHINO:_ **

WHAT DID I JUS T SAY

**_KIRINO:_ **

I mean we havent seen  
The doc yet idk what to say

**_AOYAMA:_ **

Hes giving u the angy face

camera03.jpg _View Image_.

Here’s pic for proof

**_KIRINO:_ **

Beautiful

i can hang that up  
with all of the shindou’s   
judging+disappointed faces   
on my record

-

“What are you doing?”

Coach Kudou talks to him, and Kirino flushes, bringing his phone away from view. He notices belatedly that he’s smiling pretty widely, and his face heats up.

He chuckles, a hand at his face in an attempt to calm down.

“Uh, Aoyama heard the news, so he’s asking me for what happened,” he says.

Coach Kudou’s brows are raised. “I wasn’t aware that you were so close with him,” he muses, but his tone suggests that he isn’t chasing. In fact, he turns back forward to wait for their turn at the reception.

Kirino mentally reminds himself to mind his face next time they text.

Judging by the picture, the two were on their way home, right after practice. Kirino reckons practice was cut short after he left because no one was in the mood for the mess anymore.

He checks his inbox, and he finds a worried message in the Raimon group asking for updates on his condition.

Shindou, Sangoku, and Minamisawa all send him individual messages asking for his current state. The latter even attaches an unneeded apology, but alas, Kirino isn’t near enough to flick him in the forehead.

He informs them the reception line is rather long and it’d take a while.

Tenma and Shinsuke have messaged him individually with worried chasings, but he assures them that there’s nothing wrong and doesn’t read the other replies.

He sighs. Things have gotten a little annoying.


	5. they're my rules (so I write the story)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, do you know anyone that's a stalker or a paparazzi?" _(Kirino, I'm gonna stop you right there.)_
> 
> Or, in a slightly estranged turn of events, Kirino begins to cultivate his ultimate team to take over the world, all while Ichino cries in the corner and Shindou worries for his childhood friend's morals.

Of course, they found nothing wrong with his legs.

It could be psychological, or it was just exhaustion. They’re leaning towards it being a psychological problem right now, and maybe they’re right. Maybe, at the core of it, that’s what this is-- remnants of trauma.

PTSD came in many forms, after all.

Regardless, something about the situation just told him that this would be a regular occurence herein. He’ll have to adapt to it.

He barely listens to Coach Kudou when he tries to tell him everything will be fine.

Then Coach Kudou goes to another room to talk to the doctor, and Kirino wonders if he’ll have to talk to a therapist if they think he’s not coping well. Sounds like a pain.

“Woah! I’m sorry!”

Kirino jerks out of his thoughts when a figure running past accidentally trips over his foot.

Quickly, he leans forward and hooks his arm over the figure, barely catching the boy on his body and his wheelchair before they all go crashing onto each other.

“Ow, ow,” Kirino winces, arms, awkwardly clutching to the figure that’s now sprawling over himself. They’re both on the chair, in some floundering sort of hug.

Immediately after their balance is gained, the figure on top quickly jumps back and stands up, looking over Kirino with enough panic for a country.

“I’m so sorry! Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t look where I was going I’m sorry I think I elbowed you or kneed you somewhere I’m so so sorry please tell me I didn’t hurt you--”

Kirino’s aching a little from a nasty knee to knee and a few awkward bumps, but it’s nothing that won’t fade in a few moments. So he chuckles, “no, please, I’m fine. Are you okay though? Did you hurt yourself?”

Then he looks up.

Amemiya Taiyou stares back, pale and worried and looking as if he’d just committed an inexcusable crime.

Kirino gapes.

“No, I’m fine. Perfectly fine,” the orange-haired boy quickly says, relieved-- but his eyes still run all around the pink-haired senior, trying to find _any_ sign of an aggravated injury. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t be running in a hospital.”

Kirino forces his own mouth shut, and manages a smile in response. “As long as you don’t try again, I guess,” he says, looking over the boy to find any particularly nasty bumps-- but since the boy’s wearing long sleeves, he’s pretty well shielded.

That’s a relief.

“I’m Kirino,” he introduces himself, trying to change the subject. He’s pretty sure the boy will apologize until sunrise if Kirino doesn’t do this. “Kirino Ranmaru. Nice to meet you.”

And Taiyou straightens. “Ah-- I’m Amemiya Taiyou,” he says. Then he freezes, like he’s suddenly spotted something really obvious-- “is that a Raimon soccer jersey?”

As expected from the famous Airheaded Sunshine Boy of Arakumo (epithet courtesy of the soccer fans of the future,) he immediately turns the conversation into soccer. Kirino didn’t expect any less.

“Yeah, I’m a Defender,” Kirino tells him. “What about you, Amemiya?”

Kirino admires the way Amemiya slots himself onto the bench beside the wheelchair, sparkling with the eagerness to engage in a soccer conversation already.

“I’m a Forward,” he says, then he chuckles, sheepish. “They’re not letting me play as often because of my health, though.”

Kirino, knowing the boy does make a full recovery eventually, can’t help but empathize.

“Same here,” Kirino tells him. When Amemiya looks over, Kirino turns to his knees, gripping his fist at his lap with a sort of sigh. “I’m a time bomb, I think.”

He’s surprised when Amemiya leans over, taking Kirino’s hand in his. Kirino looks over, and the boy grins.

“Then we’re the same, huh?”

Kirino chuckles. The smile was infectious. They exchange contact information, and in seconds, Kirino is basking in familiarity.

-

**_Taiyou is an honorary member of History's Strongest Eleven. Or Chrono Storm, as they tended to throw the name around like a medal._ **

**_Kirino was never quite close to the sunshine boy until then._ **

****

**_When they didn’t make the cut for Earth Eleven, they gathered to brood over it with cake and coffee. Nishiki tagged along, of course._ **

**_(Shinsuke was part of them at first. Then he snuck on board the spaceship and Taiyou booted him out of the gang. To this day he’s still crying about it.)_ **

****

**_It was a hilarious combination. The excitable samurai wannabe, the straight-laced mom friend, and the cinnamon soccer idiot. This weird combination just strolled into a coffee shop, what could’ve gone wrong?_ **

**_Well, let’s just say none of them drank their coffee and they spent their time ranting to each other like drunkards._ **

**_They go on coffee dates, and they specifically call it that (with extra emphasis on_ ** **_date_ ** **_with a heart at the end of text messages) just to irritate Shindou and Sata. Zanark also often bursts right out of time just to yell at Nishiki, which is still the funniest thing in the world._ **

**_There was a time Kazemaru infiltrated their ranks, and Coach Endou right about barged into the coffee shop screeching._ **

****

**_It’s such a strange relationship they had, yet it was so much fun just fooling around. They had little in common, yet so much to bond over._ **

**_Kirino sighed, realizing that he’ll possibly never build a relationship like that with them again. They can still be friends-- but it definitely wouldn’t be the same._ **

**_Nothing would, ever again_ ** **.**

-

“We’re having a match with Eito in the weekend, and we’re supposed to lose,” Kirino says. “Three to Zero.”

Ichino and Aoyama are already in his room, sitting around a mess of papers and sketches.

At the sudden declaration, Ichino drops his pen. “What?”

Aoyama just notes that down on the side, “Eito, Raimon, three, zero.” Then he looks up, “anything else?”

Ichino buries his palms into his face and groans, “I’m tired of playing the straight man!” he yells.

“Yeah, because you’re bi--”

“Not the point!” Ichino snaps, face heating up. “How the hell do you know that anyways, Kirino?”

“Oh, we got him to swear,” Kirino observes, impressed. “Anyways, I’m sure Tenma will do something. He and Shinsuke still don’t know about the score-setting yet.”

“Agh, that’s gotta suck,” Aoyama notes that down, “you think windy sugar boy will manage to score a point on his own?”

“Don’t call him that!” Ichino squeaks, “that sounds wrong on so many levels-- don’t write that down!”

“Nah, he’ll need Shindou’s help,” Kirino says. “Tenma’s charisma stats are through the roof. He’s the kinda cheat player you’d see at the top rankings of every mobage, y’know. That and the element of surprise, it’ll be an easy goal for us.”

“And he’s the kind that _moves your heart_ without even realizing it himself,” Aoyama says, posing dramatically with a sigh. Then he blinks, realizing something. “He’s a total natural. He’d make a killing at a host club.”

“Don’t stereotype him…” Ichino mutters, “oh, you guys aren’t even listening to me.”

“I don’t think the club will take it too kindly,” Aoyama says, “I mean, I’d be pissed too. Fifth has their eyes on us, and Sugarboy will only make it worse.”

“Well, this is the thing,” Kirino says, “they might try to replace us all again, or they might just take Coach Kudou away from us.”

“Yeah, they totally would,” Aoyama sighs, “think the next guy’s gonna be from Fifth? That might give us more opportunities, but it’s not good for our team.”

Kirino hums.

“Actually, I heard a really interesting rumour from recent soccer news…” he trails off. When he looks to the side, wondering why Ichino hadn’t said anything yet.

Ichino’s crying.

“...stop ignoring me already…” he sniffles, rubbing at his cheeks with his sleeves.

And Kirino and Aoyama _panic_. They start swearing and yelling and apologizing, converging on the boy in an absolute mess of limbs and hair and _shit we messed up this is your fault, no it’s obviously yours-_ -

“Crap! Uh, we’re sorry! Ichino, we’re sorry!”

“We went too far, we didn’t mean to!”

Kazu opens the door to see what the commotion is about.

He closes the door.

“Don’t leave us! HELP!”

-

Ichino and Aoyama stay over that night to plan world domination.

By the time they wake up again, breakfast is on the table and Kazu’s already gone for work. There’s pudding on the table, but there’s also a note saying ITS FOR NANASUKE, NOT THE OTHER TWO.

“Ichino, you’re officially Kazu’s favourite,” Aoyama reports.

“Because I cried?!”

Ichino sits on the sofa, Kirino seated on the bean bag in front of him and between his legs as the gray-haired boy works on the pink mess of hair before him.

Kirino’s still in the process of waking up, face buried in a pillow at his chest as he groans softly into the cotton. Ichino has a comb out, trying to work out the knots.

Aoyama picks up a piece of toast and a mug of hot chocolate.

“Can you do my hair too?” Aoyama asks.

Ichino snaps, “both of you are so lazy!”

Then Aoyama snaps a picture of them to send to Shindou, just to make sure they know that Kirino is alive.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, Kirino’s finally awake,” Ichino looks down, “how long did that take? Thirty minutes? Aoyama, are you taking a video? Why are you taking a video?”

Kirino stretches, like a cat.

Then he yawns, rubbing at his eyes. “...Morning practice?”

“Holy crap Aoyama, send me that video after this, I want it.”

-

Aoyama and Ichino hide around the corner as Kirino approaches the Shindou house.

The gates are locked and everything. The guards standing outside the door greets him as he approaches. But Kirino places a finger at his lips, smiling cheekily.

“Don’t tell Shindou yet! I’m playing a prank on him,” he says.

The guard just sighs fondly and lets him in.

Kirino retains his air of naivete until the guard looks away-- and Kirino breathes out heavily. His breath comes out foggy, and he wills the mist to form around him.

It wouldn’t be the first time Kirino has done it, so though the guard is slightly alarmed, he’s not wary.

Kirino reaches for the mailbox beside the gate.

-

**_“For the last time, stop using your hissatsus whenever you want!!” Shindou yells at the club for the third time that week. “I hate getting complaints from teachers because Shinsuke emulated spiderman in traffic or because Tsurugi decimated a man!”_ **

**_“Tsurugi decimated a_ ** **what** **_?”_ **

**_“They were bullying a bird,” Tsurugi holds his hands up in his defense._ **

**_“Don’t just Death Sword_ ** **_everything!” Shindou yells, “and whoever used One Night Castle, it’s been there for a week already!”_ **

**_“So it’s a One Week Castle now?”_ **

**_Hayami makes a crying noise, “we don’t know how to put it back down!”_ **

****

**_Kirino watches this from the sides, sipping on a packet of juice. Aoi hands him the training menu with a dry laugh._ **

**_“You’re not going to help him?” she asks._ **

**_Kirino hums, stating, “I’m only the team Mom from Monday to Wednesday.”_ **

****

-

“C’mon, hide it now. It’s our first piece of evidence,” Kirino hands it to Aoyama.

They made it to the riverbank, sitting by the benches as Kirino and Ichino stretch out, ready to get some individual practice in. Aoyama just sits beside them. He didn’t bring his spikes, so he’s stuck on manager duties.

Aoyama just frowns at it. “Three to Zero, just like you said. They’re really shoving it in our faces that we shouldn’t go against Fifth Sector, huh?”

Ichino hums at that. “Is it really fine for us to take it?”

Kirino shrugs, “I’m sure Tsurugi will be happy to shove it in our faces instead. And the coach gets one too, so it’s probably fine.”

“Probably, you say?” Aoyama says, “well, this feels very spy-like, so I’m having fun.”

“I think it’s fun, too!”

They all freeze.

They have _no_ idea when she got here, but Yamana Akane is sitting beside Aoyama on the bench, a bright smile on her face and her pink camera in her hands.

They all leap back, squawking in surprise.

Akane takes a picture.

“What are you guys doing?” Akane asks, innocently, with the smile of a witch that has just gotten a year’s supply of blackmail.

“Uh,” Ichino is hiding behind Kirino now, scared shitless.

“A-” Kirino clears his throat, “Akane? How long have you been uh, listening to us?”

Akane smiles, flowers of moe blooming around her. “Since you were at Shindou-sama’s house! Whatever you were doing looked interesting, so I followed you guys over here.”

They have no idea which is freakier. The fact that they didn’t even notice her until now, that she was awake before them, or that she’s stalking Shindou’s house.

Aoyama and Ichino are both hiding behind Kirino now.

Kirino sweats cold, but he sighs fondly at that.

“Well, we’re trying to overthrow the current soccer government, wanna help us? It’s a super secret project.” He says, because when you put it so frankly, it sounds crazy.

Akane beams, not even hesitating. “Yes, please!”

( _Ah, she’s crazy_ , they collectively realize.)

Kirino raises a thumbs up, looking over his shoulder at the two behind him. Then, with all the tone of ‘this was definitely planned I swear’, he establishes, “okay, we got our espionage expert.”

“Just like that?!” Ichino squawks.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, just accept it,” Aoyama hisses.

Team World Domination has grown a little, and Kirino has no idea what the hell’s going on, but everyone’s having fun and they’re all being adorably passionate about it, so whatever.

-

As expected, they get the news today. They’re having a match with Eito, and Shindou miserably informs the team about the score setting he’s heard from Tsurugi.

Coach Kudou has little to say about it.

And no one quite has the heart to tell Tenma and Shinsuke about it, because they seemed so enthusiastic about practicing and everything.

So Kirino tells them.

Because it’s kinda cruel to make them realize midway through the match tomorrow. Might as well lay them down nicely now and let them cry for a night.

“To tell the truth, Tenma, Shinsuke,” Kirino speaks up, “it’s a practice match, but it’s not much of actual soccer. There’s a score set and everything, so it’s not fun at all.”

Everyone’s jaws drop.

Ichino facepalms in the corner. (‘What happened to _put them down gently?_ ’ he can hear the frustrated groaning already.)

“Eh?” is Tenma’s confused response.

“The Fifth’s soccer administration works on the basis that everyone can play on an equal ground-- so wins and losses are distributed by the Holy Emperor, including practice matches,” Kirino explains, “you learned communism in history class yet? This is that.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence.

“This is bad, Shindou,” Hamano says, “Kirino’s lost his filter.”

“Did he just straight up call it communist or am I hearing things?” Minamisawa says, raising a hesitant hand, “because if he did, we’re screwed, and I want a recording of this to laugh about ten years later.”

“Don’t worry, I have the entire thing on video,” Akane assures him, cheerfully

“Ah, thank you, that solves nothing,” Hayami says, deadpanned. Then immediately he explodes, “Kirino-kunnnn!!” he sobs, “you know you shouldn’t say that!!”

(Because, the government is shit, yes, but if you insult it you could still get arrested for defaming them. It’s law. It’s one thing to yell it when they’re in the club room, and another thing to yell it when Tsurugi, a Seed, is listening.)

Kirino shrugs at that. “It’s the truth.”

“Wait wait, what?” Tenma repeats. “Set scores? What does that mean, Kirino-senpai? Can we uh, get a proper explanation…?”

Hayami cries. Ichino joins him with a soft apology. The club all give Tsurugi a nervous glance, and the striker sighs, looking away with a scoff.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he says. Everyone in the club breathes out in relief.

Then Shinsuke raises his hand, “I failed history last year, what’s communism?”

Everyone lunges at Kirino before he talks again.

-

As expected, Shinsuke and Tenma are upset about it.

At the riverbank, they sit around the bench. Kirino, Shindou, Tenma, Shinsuke and Aoi-- Shindou is only here because he didn’t trust the boy to make it home on his own.

In fact, if Shindou wanted Tenma to follow the score order, talking him out of his hero complex is probably more effective than leaving him in the dark.

“It’s been like this for a while now,” Kirino tells them. “Of course, no one likes it, but Fifth Sector is the governor of soccer, we have to do what they say.”

Tenma frowns at that, “but that’s unfair! Soccer’s not fun like that.”

“We know,” Shindou says, fists clenching. “Obviously, we all want to play soccer like we normally do in practice. But if we don’t follow the Fifth’s orders, we could be disallowed from playing soccer altogether.”

This causes the three First Years to gasp.

“Wait, what?!” Tenma gapes, “that’s ridiculous!”

“Yeah! It’s just a ball game!” Shinsuke says, “they don’t have the right to do that!”

“They do,” Kirino interrupts. “It might _just_ be a ball game, but it’s what controls the prestige and position of junior high schools today. It’s important enough that the school might prioritize the club over its members-- that’s what’s going on in our school now.”

“Is this politics? Because that would explain why I don’t understand a thing of what you’re trying to say.”

“It’s okay Shinsuke, you’ll get there.”

“Don’t pat my head.”

Aoi laughs as Shinsuke whines, trying to bat away Kirino’s hand to no avail.

It’s ridiculous each time Kirino thinks about it. Sure, Gouenji-san is moving to fix it, but there’s surely a better way to go about this before it even gets this serious to begin with.

Like, it’s _soccer_ for fuck’s sake.

You’re bringing politics and war into a little sport like this? Get real already and put all that stupid effort into helping the poor or something.

“The Board Chairman is completely on Fifth Sector’s side,” Shindou says, “remember the match we had with the Black Knights? If my Keshin didn’t awaken then, none of us would be playing soccer today.”

Tenma pouts. “I feel so bad for soccer. It’s not meant to be played like that, but the adults are just using it as a political tool.”

And Kirino chuckles at that. “You feel bad for soccer?” he asks.

Shindou can’t help but smile a little too, the edges of his lips curving. “It’s not like it’s alive, you know?”

Tenma blushes a little, “that’s just how I say things! Don’t tease me!”

Shinsuke beams, “I think it’s a really nice way to put it!”

“C’mon Shinsuke, you’re just making me embarrassed now.”

-

-

They walk the kids home, then Shindou walks Kirino towards his house.

Shindou has Kirino by the wrist, and they hadn’t spoken a single word yet. 

They’re both tired, it’s been a decently long day, and they were going to make up for the miserable situation with Kirino spending the night at Shindou’s.

The walk was peaceful either way. It’s the quiet comfort they were used to.

Or at least, it would have been if the lady with the awful curly hair didn’t suddenly pop up right there.

“You’re the captain, Shindou Takuto, aren’t you? This is my son, Hayato. He'll be playing in the match tomorrow with your team, you see.”

And then she made a show of pulling her son to meet them, like some sort of awkward introduction to her old friend.

Hayato looks miserable, as he should-- it’s the face every child makes when their mom is enthusiastic about something he isn’t, and he’s reluctant to hurt her feelings, so he just goes along with it.

“I heard your family is fond of classical music. Please, accept these. They’re concert tickets.”

Kirino frowns at this. He didn’t remember anything like this last time around, but judging by the way Shindou’s hand is gripping tightly around his wrist, KIrino can tell that he hates this situation very, very much.

And Kirino almost growls when Shindou is forced to let go of his hand to receive the bribe he didn’t even want to take.

She’s pushy, and it’s hard to refuse anything.

You're not exactly supposed to be rude towards anyone older than you-- that’s the Eastern upbringing, after all-- which is why Shindou only manages to stutter out fragile, polite refusals that the lady bulldozes right past, pretending not to hear

Kirino grimaces at Hayato-- and the boy catches his gaze, flinching back.

Kirino notices that and breathes out, bringing out a smile instead. Oh, no no, he can’t look that angry in front of a parent, he’ll get the club in trouble.

Anyways, Kirino takes the tickets from Shindou’s hands, straightening it and handing it with both hands back to the lady.

“Pardon me, auntie,” he interrupts, “as much as we’d love to help you out, the score order is something decided by the Fifth-- and as I’ve heard Eito is very specific to a points system sorted by their coach. They won’t take it well if we interfere--”

“Do not interrupt me,” the lady cuts in sharply. “I am not talking to you, young man.”

Kirino’s smile stiffens.

The lady scoffs pretentiously. “I know what I am doing, and adults have their own reasons for doing what they do. Don’t _act_ smart on things you do not understand, what a rude young man you are.”

Shindou bristles behind him, and Kirino reaches a hand back to set on his shoulder assuringly.

Kirino chuckles in a feign of clumsiness “I’m _so_ sorry about that, auntie. The truth is, the Raimon Soccer Club is under very tight supervision from the Fifth right now. If they find out we accept bribes like these, I worry that you will be troubled.”

On cue, a camera flashes from behind Kirino.

Heads swirled in alarm, but the cameraman was long gone.

Kirino smiles again, his expressions darker than before.

“See? Now depending on what you do next, we might be able to prevent a major _scandal_ being exposed to the Fifth and our schools. I’m very sorry again, but I just really don’t want you to be in trouble because of us, _auntie_.”

This makes her flinch in fear, stepping back.

“I--” she hesitates, then she reaches out and snatches the tickets back. “Listen, you two. This conversation did not happen, and nothing of any sort was discussed today. Understood?”

Then she grabs her poor little Hayato and they march out of there quickly.

Kirino waves at them cheerfully, “have a nice day, auntie!”

He turns back around to Shindou, and the boy just looks flabbergasted. He’s looking up and down Kirino so rapidly, like he can’t even believe this is Kirino he’s looking at. His jaw is agape, and he’s struggling to understand what just happened.

“Wha-- Kirino, you-- huh? That was--”

Kirino resists the urge to laugh.

Then he looks over Shindo’s shoulder and hollers, “thanks for that, Akane! Your timing was perfect!”

Shindou swirls around to see Yamana Akane beaming at them, camera in her hand.

“It’s okay, Kirino-san, I’m glad I could be of help. It was fun.”

“Akane?!” Shindou yelps, surprised to see her. She was hiding behind the telephone pole, smiling innocently. “Uhm, how long have you been there?”

“The whole time!” Akane says cheerfully.

Shindou’s face scrunches up in the most impressive grimace he’s ever made, and that expression probably means he’s debating between bashing his skull against the wall and wanting to go home and sleep, preferably immediately, now.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nursing a headache.

Yeah, it’s been a long, annoying day for him. First the practice match tomorrow, then the devastating score order, then Tenma’s stubborn hero complex, then the bribery, and then he finds out he has a stalker.

And Kirino is smiling, so he definitely already knew about Akane.

“You’re insufferable, why are we friends,” Shindou mutters to himself.

Kirino just smiles in response and Shindou _groans_.

He has so many things to worry about.

_Ugh. He should’ve handed off the captain band to Sangoku after all..._

And in the sweetest, friendly senpai voice, Kirino says, “Akane, it’s getting late, so you shouldn’t wander out here,” he purposefully omits the stalking part. “You’ll get approached by creepy old ladies.”

Akane smiles with all the knowledge of a very good witch who knows she’s earned herself a prize, “okay, Kirino-kun!”

Kirino sighs contentedly. “Okay, then if your _Shin-sama_ is done picking up his jaw, let’s walk you home, shall we?”

Shindou blushes at the nickname.

And Kirino extends his hand toward Akane, urging her to take it.

“Yes, please,” Akane takes the hand, flowers blooming beside her, because an embarrassed Shindou is cute, and who’s to deny this princess treatment from Kirino?

Akane extends her other hand toward Shindou, who blushes harder.

“Yay! Shin-sama is walking me home, I’m happy!"

“C’mon, _Shin-sama_ , take her other hand already,” Kirino urges him cheekily, his voice lilting. 

Shindou flusters, “both of you stop that already!”

-

-

“Are you still mad about that, Shindou?” Kirino chuckles. He comes out of the bath to see Shindou brooding on his bed, obviously nursing a headache.

Kirino sits down by the bed.

Shindou sits up abruptly, throwing his pillow before him.

“I can’t believe that kid! His intentions are so- so _obnoxiously_ ignorant!” he gestures angrily. “It’s not like we have never thought of rebelling or doing whatever we want! Why can’t he understand that we’re holding back because we don’t want to be selfish?!”

Kirino watches the outburst fondly.

“I mean, we all want to play soccer normally, like that match we had last year in the finals,” Shindou says, “the score orders suck, yes, but--” Shindou throws his hands into the air and lets out a loud, frustrated groan.

The captain proceeds to claw his hair out, and Kirino reaches out to pat him on the head with a fond ‘there there’ motion.

(It’s not as if the people of this era know of the Resistance, so it makes sense.)

Soccer is a sport that requires a large group of people, so without a club or local team, practice matches were impossible to come by. Hardly anyone played the game for the sport now-- the Akizora Challengers were one of the only few left in Inazuma Town.

So having an active club in school was important. You could play all you wanted, albeit the occasional score order-- if you were lucky, you get a no-order game to have fun.

On the flip side, if you disobeyed-- you could get kicked out of the club, you could get sabotaged by your coach and your teammates, or your entire club could be evicted in exchange for Fifth agents.

There’s little you can do when the government is corrupt and all you had to speak for yourself was your underage opinion for your measly hobby.

So there had been no next to no gain in the large risk Tenma made them take, which is why everyone was furious the first time around.

“I think it’s worth a try,” Kirino says.

Shindou looks up, confused.

“The most important battles have always seemed impossible at first,” Kirino turns to him. “You know the story of Jeanne d’Arc? No one believed a girl like her, but she raised her flag and still led them to victory, didn’t she?”

“The Siege of Orleans,” Shindou says.

Shindou pulls his knees to his chest. Kirino hums at that.

“I’m sure a lot of people think the same way we do,” Kirino says. “If we show them that it’s _possible_ , we’ll find people that are willing to help us out, don’t you think?”

“I get what you’re saying, Kirino, but it’s wishful thinking at best,” Shindou says. “We can try what we want, but they’ll take us out of the picture once we’re worthless. I seem to be worth something to them because of my Keshin, but what if they go for the Coach?”

And well, he has a point there.

_Oh. That’s right._

“I’ve heard a very interesting rumour in recent soccer news,” Kirino says, suddenly remembering something. He leans in closer, smiling slyly.

He had wanted to tell Ichino and Aoyama this last night, but they were distracted.

Shindou raised a brow at him, skeptical, but he didn’t push him away.

“Did you hear? Endou Mamoru broke his arm in a training accident, so he’s taking a break from the international team this year.”

Shindou’s eyes widened.

“Wait, seriously?”

Kirino grins.

“And you know what else I’ve heard?” he says, leaning closer so he’s sprawled over Shindou’s knees, “apparently, he’s on his way back to Japan.”

Shindou gulps.

“You don’t mean…” he shakes his head, “no, no, that’s impossible. Even if he offers to or volunteers or receives highest recommendations, I doubt the Fifth would allow for him to take over. It’s impossible.”

Kirino chuckles, “c’mon, Shindou, have some wishful thinking.”

“That’s too much wishful thinking!” Shindou snaps.

Kirino gets up with a pout, scooting to the futon beside the bed.

“Well, whatever then,” he says, giving up for the night. “Don’t gawk at me if my hunch is right!” he says, setting under the covers.

Shindou rolls his eyes, reaching for the lights.

“Good night?”

“Good night.”


	6. joining hands (the world is not without hope)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There is no way we can win against Fifth Sector."
> 
> The first step to an insane breakthrough is a process of being infected by insanity-- kind of like a zombie apocalypse, just get bitten once and you no longer have to fear. 
> 
> In that case, Kirino volunteers to be patient zero.

And then came the practice match.

Tenma shows up with Shinsuke, and they’re _both_ covered in scratches and wounds. Oh dear lord, who let the children fight a war last night?

“Captain!” Tenma says immediately upon entering (and causing everyone muted heart attacks in the process), “I’ve made up my mind. I’m still going to play all out today, even if I have to do it myself!”

“Me too!” Shinsuke says, apparently infected with protagonist disease, “please don’t stop us!”

Kirino watches from his spot on the bench as Kurama’s jaw drops, and Minamisawa instinctively grabs the forward by the scruff before he goes over there to rip their juniors a new one.

Shindou sighs. He expected this.

“Okay then, no,” he says, “both of you are sitting out.”

They make synchronously despaired wails at the unexpected (absolutely expected. Kirino wonders why they didn't just do this the first time around) countermeasure to the situation. Seriously, if they know they're going to misbehave, obviously, they'll have to sit out. 

They weren't going to win anyways, so they're not missing out on anything.

The managers sigh at that, because, really, what were they expecting? 

Kirino chuckles. “Isn’t it fine, let them play.”

“Excuse me Kirino, no.”

“Boo to your tyranny, Shindou.”

Ichino rolls his eyes at them. “It’s the Coach’s decision, guys,” he reminds them, “even so, we only have a defender position left, so if anyone’s playing…”

“Ichino, can you play defender?” Coach Kudou suddenly speaks up, and his suggestion makes the enire room come to a startling halt. A loud confusion ensues as Coach Kudou turns stoically to Tenma. “Matsukaze, you’re in.”

“Eh?”

“Huh?”

“Wait--”

Even Kirino’s taken by surprise. The entire team is bowled over by the unexpected decision, and Shinsuke makes a whining noise of very friendly frustration.

“Yes, I’m playing!” Tenma cheers, because he’s an idiot that doesn’t know how to read the mood.

“Oh, darn it! I’ll make it next time, Tenma!” Shinsuke, another idiot that doesn’t know how to read the mood, challenges back.

Minamisawa doesn’t even look over when he grabs Kurama by the scruff again, but it doesn’t stop the little forward from snapping, “oh, you two brats be quiet!” he hisses, “wait, Coach! Why are we having Ichino switch positions instead of Tenma?”

“Ah, Kurama, calm down,” Hayami says, though Kurama only hisses at him like a grouchy dog in response.

Ichino was a Midfielder first, a Forward second, and definitely not more of a Defender than any other player on the field. Shoving him all the way back to make space for Tenma was just rude.

(Especially since this is his first match in the First Team uniform, as awful as the score setting may be. It’s just-- upsetting, and they all understood the frustration.)

But the coach was speaking, so you really shouldn’t question it.

“I just thought it appropriate,” Coach Kudou says, sitting down. He picks up his clipboard and turns his attention fully toward it. “I’m not obliged to provide any explanation for my decisions. Just go out and get in position.”

“Huh?!” Kurama snarls, looking like he’s ready to fight-- so Minamisawa tugs him back a little just in case.

“Kurama,” Shindou chastises him, “he’s the coach.”

“I- It’s fine!” Ichino speaks up, though he sounds in a panic. “It’s not like we’ll get to do anything solid, so I’m fine kicking back into the defender position, it’s not going to make the match any worse than it is, anyways…”

His comment really soured the mood further, but it worked to quell the heat in the conversation.

Kurama begrudgingly accepts it, and turns away with heated vigor. Minamisawa sighs, giving them all a dismissive shrug before following along.

“It doesn’t have to be terrible!” Tenma snaps, and all eyes in the team turn to him.

“Uhm, like you have a place to talk?” Kurama yells from a distance.

Ichino and Shindou then try their best to ease the situation, but Kurama’s a step from a fit and Tenma is too pure to be embarrassed by his own declarations (though he adds an intense apology to Ichino for stealing his spot in between) then he yells louder about his desire to change the score order today.

(Kurama’s water bottle goes flying into the air, and Minamisawa doesn’t catch it in time, so it socks Tenma right in the face. Hayami squeaks, Shinsuke yelps, and Akane takes a picture. Amagi has to step in to restrain the snake boy, and Aoi is now fussing over Tenma’s new record of injuries. Midori wants blood, and Kurama is happy to give it.)

Kirino can’t help but revel in the chaos.

Of course something has to ruin the hilarity, though.

**_“Oh? What’s this? There’s a commotion happening on Raimon’s bench! Could something be the matter?”_ **

****

The announcer and the crowd have already taken notice, and everyone in the team freezes where they stand, suddenly realizing they’re in the face of a large TV that’s marking their major movements herein.

A good number of them look at the ground, and Kurama’s anger dissipates.

“If you’re done being children, get in position,” Coach Kudou reminds them.

This time, they don’t protest as they leave. Sangoku pats Ichino on the shoulder, Minamisawa takes Kurama by the arm, and Shindou turns wordlessly to the field, stopping only to talk to Eito’s captain about the score order.

“Kirino? You can play today?” Coach Kudou asks, noticing Kirino hasn’t gotten up from the ground yet.

Mid-stretch, Kirino turns to the Coach. “Yeah,” he says, standing up and bending his knees once more for good measure. “No problems at all.”

**_“It seems like the brawl has tided over! Will that affect the match, I wonder?”_** the commentator dismisses, **_“Raimon versus Eito, coming together again for what will be one great practice match to see! Now, both teams are in position...”_**

****

Kirino tunes him out. Setting into his position, he finds Ichino much closer than he usually is. None of them have the fire in their eyes that Kirino’s used to seeing, and that kinda hurts.

He shakes his head, knowing that he’ll get over it, and it’s only temporary.

“Let’s do this!” Tenma declares, his voice a little thing in the distance-- but it makes Kirino smile anyways.

“Kirino.”

He jumps, hearing Kurumada’s voice beside him.

“You’re not planning anything dumb, are you?”

Their bulky defender is giving Kirino a stern eye, and Kirino can’t help but fidget. Kurumada has always been passionate and vocal, so him showing an observant, disciplined side was rare-- and often, meant that the situation was too serious for the alternative.

It’s seconds before the whistle, and Kirino realizes he can’t lie to Kurumada.

“Sorry, Kurumada-san,” he says, scratching his cheek bashfully, “but what can I say… I quite like spoiling my juniors.”

Kurumada has a second to register the words before the whistle blows, and the game begins. Kirino pointedly ignores the senior therein as a messy exchange of offense and defense occurs.

-

Then, predictably at the five-minute mark, Shindou loses the ball to a clumsy cut.

**_“Eito’s #7, Fukuro makes a nice cut! #9, Yukiji, is headed up-- but oh! There’s Raimon’s ace Defender, Kirino!”_ **

Kirino stands before him. Eito’s #9, Yukiji, blinks in surprise, but immediately recovers, moving their hands forward for their Hissatsu.

“ **Future Eye** ,” they whisper, eyes glinting slightly green and blue as they scan each step.

Kirino scoffs. He’s faced this many times, and he knows exactly how to thwart it. He doesn’t even need a hissatsu for this.

So Kirino goes forward-- and Kurumada yells out, his instincts flaring at the thought of what the defender could possibly be planning. 

“Kirino, wait--!!”

And Kirino, startled by the sudden call-- stumbles. His foot hesitates as it falls, and he sways slightly as his leg falls short of a landing. It’s no big deal, though, a quick extra step is enough to get himself back into pace.

But his opponent falters. 

A flimsy hissatsu as it was, Future Eye’s calculations had been completely interrupted by the slight misstep. He stops dribbling for a second, hesitating for a moment too long as he’s unsure how to continue from there.

It would have been too suspicious to deliberately miss the steal there, so Kirino scoops the ball out of his feet and into his own.

Kirino smirks, passing it quickly to Hamano.

“My bad,” Kirino says to the boy, barely giving him a glance.

“Ah, yeah,” the boy responds, hesitant. He doesn’t say anything else, nor does he suspect a thing-- he just turns around as #7 cuts a pass from Hamano to Shindou once again. This time, when he heads for the goal, Kirino doesn’t stop him.

And he scores, while Kirino stands oftly to the side, looking in the wrong direction, not posed to defend.

**_“GOAL! Eito Academy gets the first point!”_ **

****

Kirino hides a smile.

-

Akane happily looks through her pictures.

“What’re you doing, Akane?” Midori asks.

Akane beams, showing the girl a closeup of Kirino, looking regal and distant, wiping off some sweat at his chin.

“Kirino-kun is pretty, too,” she says, as an explanation that explains nothing at all.

(She doesn’t show them the full picture, showing the dread as Amagi looks away, the resignation as Sangoku prepares to receive it, and Kirino’s body, poised in any way but to face the opponent’s shot.)

“Ah, okay.” Midori and Ms Otonashi give her weird looks, but they don’t question a thing.

“Oh, that’s a really nice picture!” Shinsuke says, “I’m surprised you managed to get that in all the running around that’s happening.”

“That’s right,” Akane says, standing up to address Coach Kudou and Ms Otonashi, “can I be excused for a while? I forgot my extra films at the lockers.”

“Wait, you can’t go back to the lockers now,” Ms Otonashi reasons, “at least wait for half time?” Akane immediately deflates, eyes watering in the most kicked puppy manner in the world, and Ms Otonashi feels her entire conscience waver. “No means no!”

“It’s fine,” Coach Kudou says.

The managers, teacher advisor, and Shinsuke whirl in unison, horrified.

Immediately sparkling, flowers blooming, Akane stands up. “Then I’ll be going,” she reports, “thank you, Coach Kudou!”

Ms Otonashi’s eyes jump from Akane to Coach and Akane again, “wha-- wait! Coach, are you sure?”

Coach hums, eyes not leaving the game. “Just be back by half time,” he says over his shoulder.

“Huh? Surely it won’t take that long--”

“Understood,” Akane salutes, “I’ll be off, then.”

Ms Otonashi barely has a second to blink before Akane is gone, Shinsuke, Aoi and Midori’s jaws are on the floor, and Coach Kudou is still stoically observing the match.

“Coach Kudou!” she chastises. “You can’t just give her permission to leave in the middle of a match, it’s unprofessional!” she says, as if she had a place to lecture the coach about professionalism.

“It’ll be fine,” Coach Kudou assures, but doesn’t elaborate further. “She’ll be back soon, and we won’t even know she’s been gone.”

Akane passes by Tsurugi as she goes.

The striker gives her a curious glance, but pays her no heed. He walks toward the bench to the wary glances of the managers and Shinsuke, but he knows he doesn’t need to explain himself as he leans against the wall, watching the match with muted curiosity.

-

Tenma watches miserably as the exchange happens, quickly this time. It’s pathetic-- no hissatsu are even being used, yet the balls are passing hands easily.

No one’s trying and it’s just stupid how no one ever notices. It’s not even pleasant to watch, it’s just a bunch of kids kicking the ball around pretending to try.

(Tenma grips his fists, irritated.)

“This is wrong!” Tenma snaps when Ichino lets the ball leave his feet again.

Shindou turns, alarmed at the sudden declaration. Yukiji makes his way toward the goal, and Tenma swirls toward Shindou, his voice slightly below a yell.

“This isn’t soccer!” he yells. “Can’t you hear it? Soccer’s crying!”

Shindou only cringes back, unable to shout anything in response.

**_“OH! What’s this! Kirino was at the mid field just now, but somehow he’s made it all the way back before the goal!”_ **

****

Heads turn. Sangoku’s eyes widen.

Kirino raises a hand, and lets out a deep, hollow breath. The fog rises, and he swipes, letting it fill the air. **“The Mist.”**

Yukiji hesitates, flabbergasted by the obstruction-- and then the ball is gone from under his feet, and he yells out in frustration, swiping his arms around desperately in an attempt to get his vision back.

**_“And there it is! Kirino Ranmaru’s infamous defensive hissatsu technique, The Mist! He steals the ball right back from under Yukiji’s nose!”_ **

Kirino emerges from the mist, dribbling forward without looking back.

“Wait, Kirino?!” Kurumada calls out, “hey!”

“You’re kidding me,” Hamano sighs.

Hayami cringes, knowing exactly where this is going to go.

“Kirino!” Kurama yells out.

Kirino dismisses them, maneuvering around the court and then passing it to Ichino. Ichino receives it with just about as much surprise as the rest of the court.

Their eyes meet, and Ichino fists clench. Kirino directs his gaze to the crowd-- and Ichino nods, just subtle enough to be barely seen.

Then Ichino moves, dribbling up the court with renewed vigor in his steps.

He comes across the captain of Eito in his way, but Ichino doesn’t falter.

“Right, it’s almost half time, so let me have this,” Saewatari, the captain of Eito, grounds out. “Be good now.”

Ichino’s eyes narrow. “Unfortunately,” he mutters-- and with a roar, he charges forward, bursting past with a gust of wind just behind him-- “you’re full of openings!”

And he swirls, bringing the ball high and center to the middle of the field.

“Wha-- Ichino, not you too!” Hayami has his hands in his hair.

Tenma doesn’t let the chance slip by. 

“Go, Tenma!” Shinsuke stands up from the bench, yelling out loudly for him-- and Tenma jumps to receive the ball.

“Captain!” He heads the ball to Shindou.

Shindou receives the ball at his chest, eyes wide. “Wh--” he’s at a loss for words, “don’t fool around, you three! We can’t just--”

“Hand it over!” Saewatari yells, and Shindou jumps at the sharp volume, passing the ball on instinct.

He realizes his mistake when the commentator speaks over his thoughts.

**_“Huh?! Raimon’s Captain, Shindou, passes the ball right over to Eito’s captain? What a waste! Was it a pass miss, I wonder?”_ **

Saewatari may have realized his own mistake there, but he doesn’t let it affect him. They have seconds left before the half is over, and they still haven’t gotten their second goal in yet.

(It’s not a big deal, but the coach values his calculations. All of Eito knows that the Coach’s temper is at its worst when they don’t fulfill the quota correctly. And when the coach’s temper is in disarray, so are their scores and ratings and everything that matters about their academic record.)

Saewatari passes it to Yukiji, who makes it to right before the goal again--

\--only for the whistle to blow.

**_“And the first half ends at 0 - 1 in Eito’s favour! Will Raimon be able to catch up?”_ **

****

A swear crosses the air, and Saewatari shoots a horrid glare at Shindou before marching off to his bench.

Shindou tenses-- and looks away, guilty.

-

“Nice to meet you.”

Endou jumps, surprised by the girl’s voice behind him.

The girl was one of Raimon’s managers, she had shown up on the screen briefly as they walked in. She held a camera and smiled kindly, like she couldn’t hurt a fly.

“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Endou asks. It’s rare that anyone talks to a total stranger in the audience stands, so this just reeked of weird. “Uhm.. you’re a Raimon manager, right? Aren’t you supposed to be down there, on the bench with the team?”

“I’m Yamana Akane,” she says, like that’s the problem here. Then she raises her camera, “I came to take some wide court shots.”

Endou is still confused. “Oh, I… I see,” he gets that part, but he still doesn’t understand why she would come specifically to his watching spot, and even talk to him.

She proceeds to take some pictures, looking through the shots, and takes a few more.

“Uhm,” Endou speaks up again, hesitantly because he felt like he was interrupting the girl's concentration as he spoke, “wouldn’t pictures from the bench be clearer?”

“Yes, they would,” Akane replies, almost immediately, which makes Endou even more confused. “But I should get some varying angles, or my pictures will be traced.”

Endou has no idea what that means.

“Uhm, sounds like a great idea,” he finishes lamely. He still doesn’t know why this girl talked to him, why she’s doing everything she’s doing, and why she’s standing beside him instead of every other spectator in the audience.

“Thank you,” she simply says, and continues taking pictures.

This is the most awkward situation Endou has ever experienced.

-

“What the hell was that for, Kirino?”

Kirino returns to the bench only to be met with a whole team’s worth of anger. Ichino hides behind him, but Tenma stands proudly with Shinsuke by his side.

Akane returns just then, her camera in hand as she takes in the new situation with a worried furrow between her brows.

Ms Otonashi tries to quell the tension, but there’s little she or the other managers can do. Coach Kudou isn’t moving, like he’s expected this, and he’s just waiting for the flood gates to open and hell to descend.

“Ichino, you too. I thought you were better than condoning this.”

“Tell me you guys were just joking around,” Hayami says, hopefully, “and please don’t do it again? Please?”

Ichino falters, genuinely hesitant.

But Kirino doesn’t. “No, I’m serious,” he says, and everyone hisses or gasps at him. He steps beside Tenma and slings an arm around his junior’s shoulder. “I’m on Tenma’s side for this.”

Tenma and Shinsuke look at him like he’s a godsend.

“You know we can’t do that, Kirino,” Shindou says, his voice stern. His posture is stiff, and his brows are furrowed, “as _Captain_ , I won’t allow you to do whatever you want.”

Kirino’s surprised. He actually used the captain card on him.

(But Kirino knows that it’s not a show of discipline or anything. Shindou’s a coward. He’s saying it, feigning some sort of authority-- because he knows that Kirino is the only person his captain card will never work on.)

(That’s why Kirino always has to do the hand-holding for him.)

“I can do whatever I want,” Kirino says. A wave of energy churns forth, rising as a dark blue wisp breathing out a declaration against the wind. “And I will.”

Tsurugi turns abruptly to the conversation, feeling the Keshin’s pulse wash over him with warmth-- a very unsettling warmth-- and his breath holds.

Shindou steps back, the energy startling his senses in the same haunting way. He doesn’t seem to know what it is, though, so he’s stunned.

But the other people in the team don’t seem to notice it.

Tenma doesn’t show any indication of noticing the energy. He just looks at Kirino, near tears, “you understand right, Kirino-senpai?” he says, “we can't let Fifth Sector keep doing this--”

Amagi interrupts. “Are you insane, Kirino? You’re supposed to be the sensible one here!”

“And you’re roping in Ichino to help you, is that it? What’s gone over you? Are you sick? Because you’re sounding delusional right now.”

“Are you listening to yourself, Kirino?”

“Ichino, we know you’re beyond this nonsense.”

“Stop talking about things like going against Fifth Sector-- we all know that’s never gonna happen! Do you want our club to be disbanded?”

“If we just shut up and follow the score order, everything will be fine! Don’t ruin it!”

“Don’t blame him!” Tenma raises his voice, “don’t you get it? Kirino-senpai and Ichino-senpai want to play soccer properly too! What’s so hard to understand about it?”

“That’s enough from you,” Minamisawa finally speaks up, irritated, “not everyone is a selfish bastard, Matsukaze!”

Tenma flinches back, as if he’d been burned.

Even Kirino cringes at the words.

“Hold on. Minamisawa, you need to calm down--” Hamano speaks up, but Minamisawa dismisses it. If Minamisawa is angry, who knows what he’ll say.

If Kurama was one that let his anger release in small periodical spurts, Minamisawa was the sort that let it accumulate before inevitably exploding.

And though Minamisawa could always reign Kurama in with a word or a tug, it doesn’t go the other way around.

“Unlike you, I don’t particularly care for soccer,” Minamisawa steps forward, sizing up the first-year and coming uncomfortably close, his voice raising to an undeniably furious decibel, “you can take your _soccer is crying_ nonsense somewhere else because you’re not trying to save soccer or anything here-- you’re just ruining it for everyone right now!”

Tenma’s eyes widen, and a broken whimper rips from his throat. Kirino’s eyes narrow-- because Minamisawa or not, how _dare_ he.

The resulting silence is expected. It’s true, but Minamisawa never knows how to sugarcoat things.

“Who’s ruining soccer for everyone?” Kirino asks, grasping his jersey, right over his heart. “It’s not Tenma, it’s not me, it’s not any of us-- it’s _Fifth Sector_. We all know that, so why do we keep denying it? Is it because you’re scared?”

“You’re insane!” Minamisawa snaps.

“Kirino, can you think about what you’re saying? Tenma is one thing, but you _know_ exactly why we shouldn’t,” Amagi says, “even if it’s you--”

“Even if it’s me, what?” Kirino challenges, “you won’t let me do it? You’ll leave me alone on the field to get my just desserts? Then why didn’t you do that in our match against Tsurugi’s team?”

Amagi flinches. “That was different!”

Kirino grasps the chance. “How is it different?!” he raises his voice, letting the burst of dark energy pulse out once again.

Brynhildr’s wave captures them in a trance they don’t quite recognize for what it is, and Kirino puts his foot down. The voice inside of him screams to their souls, a loud and glaring, yet entirely wordless declaration-- _rise up, the wind of revolution is with you!_

“We’ve opposed them once. Are you saying we did it just to go right back to obeying them? Because if that’s what you’re saying-- all of you are insane!” Kirino says, “We can only go forward from here. So why are you backing out?”

Their silence is pleasant to his ears. Kirino said his piece, churning out his inner Jeanne with all of the bonded energy they’ve shared.

He is going to start this revolution and no one is going to stop him here. If their wide-eyed looks and slightly agape mouths are any indication, it’s starting to work.

(The seeds he’s sown are starting to sprout the flowers of desire.)

“Ah, ah,” Tsurugi interrupts the tension, sounding almost pensively sarcastic-- but Kirino is surprised to see his terse shoulders, and the slight stiffness in his tone. “Is Raimon Eleven gonna tear each other apart here? Maybe you should’ve let my team take over to begin with. Raimon’s soccer is over, you don’t even have teamwork down.”

There’s a painful, realizing silence after that.

Although the quiet almost seemed like a bitter admission of defeat, Kirino can’t help but feel that something _else_ was in the air right then and there.

Something that sounded like a unanimous declaration of _hell fucking no_.

They would listen to Fifth Sector, if only to retain what little pride they had. _For their future,_ they would think, _for the grades, for the record._

But one thing they’ve realized is that much more than anything, they stayed in the club for _each other_. So each of them could save face-- for companionship, so they could all feel that at least they weren’t alone in this shitty situation.

Maybe the logical situation on day one was to let Tsurugi take over, to relieve them of all this pain, and set them free.

But no.

No, they didn’t want that.

They hated the painful score order, the agonizing match, and the upsetting _everything_ about modern soccer-- _but much more than all of that, they hated Tsurugi_.

They’d rather die than listen to any of Tsurugi’s snarky demands.

_(That, at least, was something they could unanimously agree on.)_

-

“He’s insane,” Minamisawa says, still seething as they get to their positions on the court. “Both of them. All three of them. Four. Five including coach.”

“I guess they went crazy somewhere in between all the set matches,” Kurama replies, sarcasm slurring his words. “Hard to blame them.”

The whistle blows, and the second half begins. Minamisawa passes to Kurama, and Kurama sets his foot on the ball contemplatively.

“But you know, Minamisawa,” he says, catching the boy’s attention mid-run. Minamisawa turns to see Kurama with a bright grin on his face. “He’s got a point.”

Minamisawa watches Kurama take confident strides forward.

A second later, Minamisawa swears under his breath.

“I guess you’re right,” he scoffs. And he goes up, following the forward’s lead.

**_“Raimon’s two top formation advances on the field! This is the first time we’re seeing them in unison this match!”_ **

****

Kurama rolls his eyes, passing it to Minamisawa and back, bringing the ball up swiftly with just the two of them. They blitz past the Eito forwards before swirling back and passing it strong to Shindou.

Shindou understands immediately, and he’s horrified. “Wait! Minamisawa-san, Kurama, what are you--”

“C’mon Captain,” Kurama hollers, “you’re lagging behind!”

“I’m not patient enough to tolerate any more of this nonsense,” is Minamisawa’s input, “hurry up, I’ve had enough for today and I just want to go home.”

“Pfft,” Hamano says, coming beside them, “you know the clock isn’t gonna go faster, Minamisawa.”

“Shut up, Hamano. If I don’t release my anger here, you’re the next target.”

“Oh, not Kurama?”

“Excuse me?”

“Wait, Hamano-senpai, you’re going, too?”

“Matsukaze! Hurry up and bring the ball here before I change my mind!”

Tenma’s face lights up. Shindou’s jaw drops, and Kirino smiles. Things are going really well, bonded by mutual hate instead of the conflicted passion in the first time round.

Tenma takes the ball, and his dribbling is stable. He cuts past Eito’s midfielders, making their way through with Hamano and Kurama.

“Go for it!”

Kurama sets his hands on the ground and spins. “Sidewinder!” he roars, calling upon the serpentine illusion as his will rages through the court, churning right through the line of defenders.

Eito’s goalkeeper doesn’t even have time to react before the ball spears through the goal, the whistle blows, and the crowd cheers.

**_“Aaand GOAL!”_** the commentator is utterly ecstatic, ** _“Kurama swoops in for a brilliant score! Raimon has caught up! Can anything stop them now?!”_**

****

Horrified silence sinks through the court, and utter dread fills their chest. Within it, Tenma cheers, and Kurama huffs contentedly. Aoi and Midori cheer, and Coach Kudou smirks.

Tsurugi’s jaw drops.

“Hey, stop screwing around!” Saewatari snaps, confronting Shindou. “Whatever you’re trying to pull here, you better stop if you know what’s good for both of us!”

Shindou’s fists are clenched.

“I don’t like this either,” he admits, his eyes resolved, staring straight at Saewatari. The other captain flinches. Shindou turns around, “unfortunately, we just saw it happen.”

Saewatari blanches, “you’re kidding! Are you guys insane?”

It’s ironic how he’s using the exact words they’ve used against Kirino. It’s as if they’ve only had one argument for their case to begin with. Shindou stews on that, and he can’t help but laugh miserably to himself.

Well, if they’re screwed anyways, there’s nothing he can’t do.

_(Are you insane?)_

“Yeah,” Shindou admits, his face screwed with a pained smile. 

He looks over the crowd again-- to Tema jumping with joy, to Kirino and Ichino's pleased smiles-- to Kurama and Minamisawa knocking fists, and Hamano patting Hayami in the back with one of his mischievous grins. 

And he sighs, his tone full of defeat.

“I think insanity's the trend now.”


	7. surely they remember (their passions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin to rethink their actions.
> 
> Is what they're doing really the greatest way to rebel? No one can say for sure. But sometimes, people don't need a speech or a dramatic turnaround to change their heart.
> 
> People turn differently-- from actions, from experiences, from instinct, from tears.
> 
> Raimon find their own ways, slowly.

Raimon wins the match with a 4 - 1, a clear dismissal of the predetermined score order.

Sangoku didn’t have much to do, because Eito’s forwards don’t even make it to the goal. It’s probably for the best, because Sangoku and the senior defenders still looked like they were having a crisis.

It was funny to see the coach on the other end absolutely lose his shit, but there was nothing they could do against the cheering crowd, the excited announcer, and all the TV coverage. Their hands were tied by their own farce.

Ms Otonashi’s face was pale, but somehow, she didn’t look all that troubled.

In fact, she pulls her glasses down to her eyes, and her feet shuffle almost restlessly. Like she wanted to go back into an old habit, snatch Akane’s camera, and make one hell of a news scoop out of this amazing situation.

At some point, Aoi starts cheering loudly with Midori, and Akane’s smile grows.

Shinsuke switches in for Kirino halfway through the second half, but the defense doesn’t falter at all. Kirino makes his way to the bench-- and Coach Kudou fixes him a serious, stoical gaze.

(Kirino’s forgotten how it felt to look this man in the eye.)

(It’s been so long. So, so long since he was their coach. It’s almost jarring to have him by their side again, giving instructions as he should.)

(Needless to say, he still has no idea how to interpret those meaningful gazes.)

Coach Kudou’s face is expressionless as ever-- but he sets a hand on Kirino’s, and tells him to sit down and rest his legs. Don’t forget the cooling down exercises, because Kirino isn’t playing again today and better treasure his stamina time.

Kirino has no idea what Coach Kudou is thinking, but well-- he was being nice, if nothing else. Hopefully it’s of approval, or at least he wants to believe.

Who ever knows what Coach Kudou is thinking, anyways? Definitely not Kirino.

-

“Don’t get the wrong idea! I didn’t do it for you!”

Is the first thing Kurama yells upon reaching the bench after the end of the match.

They’re all doing their cooldown exercises, and Tenma’s been sparkling in very blatant exhilaration for the past twenty minutes. It’s honestly getting annoying. (Note to self, get sunglasses.)

Hamano snickers. “What a tsundere.”

“Shut up, Hamano!”

“I’m gonna go home and sleep, and when I wake up, this will be a dream,” Hayami mutters lowly, “yeah. That’s it. That’s what this is. Maybe if I close my eyes here I’ll wake up and I’ll be on my bed and this will all just be one crazy nightmare and--”

Hamano leaps onto Hayami’s back, earning a terrified shriek.

“Haha! Guess that proves this isn’t a dream huh?”

“Hamanoooooooo!” came the despaired wail.

“Hah. Get it, because, Hama- ‘No’?” Hamano snarks at the rest of the team, all who roll their eyes at him. He turns away, proud of himself.

(Akane laughs, so he counts that as a win.)

Shindou stands up quickly-- and leaves the pitch before anyone else.

“Wait, Shindou-kun!” Ms Otonashi calls after him-- because how could the captain leave before hearing the coach’s debriefing? That wasn’t like him at all-- but Shindou simply continued walking.

“I’ll go after him,” Kirino says, standing up. He apologizes to the coach, and with everyone’s following eyes-- he leaves the field after the captain.

The silence that ensues is stilted, almost like their actions were finally sinking in.

And it really didn’t feel good at all. They won, but they felt nothing but an impending sense of something going terribly, terribly wrong-- and that just sucked.

Shinsuke and Tenma bows toward them. “Thank you for the good game!”

But even Hamano couldn’t return their smiles here.

“Are we sure what we’re doing is right?” Sangoku speaks up. “I mean, we’ve already done it-- but…”

“We know,” Minamisawa interrupts him. He picks up his water bottle. “Our club is pretty much done for now. So I guess if we wanna bail, now’s about the right time.”

And that made sense.

With this clear sign of rebellion, Fifth Sector will either replace the team or the coach at this point, probably both-- and with that, everyone in the current team will no longer have a space in the soccer world.

So this was, realistically speaking, the last match they’ll ever have.

(Or so they believed, but they didn’t have a reason to think otherwise, so it’s honestly quite hard to blame them.)

Ichino picks up his phone from Aoi’s care, and sends a discreet email to Aoyama.

 ** _"We won,"_** it simply read.

A second later, Aoyama responds. 

**_"Guess it's really happening, huh."_ **

Ichino purses his lips, unsure what to think of it. 

-

They make their way back to the team bus, and make their way back to the school.

Shindou hasn’t said a thing. He goes up the bus before everyone, sits in his corner-- and remains silent. Kirino sits beside him, trying to talk to him-- but no one in the bus really cared for conversation at the time.

Even Tenma and Shinsuke were silent, asleep and exhausted for the day.

Seriously, they were such children.

Kurama and Minamisawa faced different directions, never once saying a thing about what they did on the field.

If (when) things go wrong, they no longer have a reason to claim they weren’t involved. They quite literally enabled it personally, so if anything, they were second in line for responsibility. And they were very well aware of that.

Tsurugi is nowhere to be seen. He’s probably making a report to Fifth Sector, and has already informed the coach he’ll make his own way to wherever he needs to go.

**_ICHINO:_ **

Are you sure?

Kirino looks at the message-- and his face pulls tight. There was no elaboration, just a vague question-- and in this situation, they obviously knew what it meant.

To all of them, this was their lowest point. They were seconds away from being disbanded as a club, and there was nothing they could blame except their own stubborn insanity.

Kirino was the only one that could look at this differently-- he could see this as the very climatic moment before Coach Endou comes in so their efforts finally make clear waves.

And there was nothing Kirino could use to convince them except pure blind faith.

**_KIRINO:_ **

Yes, I am.

Ichino doesn’t reply after that-- but Kirino closes his eyes-- and he breathes. Because they’ll see. They’ll see soon, and they’ll know his faith was put in the right place.

(Time travel tends to put people in some awkward situations, doesn’t it?)

Kirino pulls out a little cubed device from his hair tie. It had been tied just right, so the device was hidden in the center of the bundle of hair, not quite visible unless the locks shuffled just right.

He hides it within his hands, shutting it off quickly-- and tucking it safely in his bag.

Gathering evidence of on-court discord was unexpectedly fun.

-

“Kirino-senpai!” Tenma calls out to the boy as the all part ways at the school gate.

The first-year is followed by Shinsuke and Aoi, both who look just as resolved as they did in the morning.

Kirino, though, was a little crushed. 

Shindou had ignored him, choosing to blatantly bypass the boy and rush home with a hurried step. A clear indication that he needed some time alone, and Kirino wasn’t allowed in his bubble. It hurt a little, but it’ll pass.

“Tenma,” Kirino turns to him. “Good work out there today. Your dribbling is pretty good.”

Tenma blushes at that, “ah but--! I mean, thank you! But uh, I still can’t catch up to Kurama-senpai and Minamisawa-senpai, so… no no, I wasn’t gonna say that!” He shakes his head furiously. 

Shinsuke pouts, “that’s nice, you get a compliment from Kirino-senpai…”

“That’s not the point!” Tenma whines. “I just wanna say--” he breathes in, and then bows down low. “Thank you very much, Kirino-senpai!”

His loud volume catches the attention of Sangoku and Amagi, who had yet to leave. 

Kirino blinks.

“You stayed on our side even when everyone else was against you,” Tenma says. “I’m really grateful for that. It’s the only reason we won this match today-- so thank you.”

Shinsuke quickly bows too. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Kirino-senpai!” he declares. “I thought you were really, _really_ cool!”

“I thought so too!” Aoi echoes, bowing as well.

Kirino flusters. “Please don’t do that, that’s embarrassing!” he tries to get them out of the bowing chain. Sangoku and Kurumada and watching with resigned smiles. “I just did what I wanted to do… but now, I think the rest of the team are having doubts. So I’m not sure if it’ll be alright from now on…”

“It’ll work out somehow!” Tenma declares.

Kirino blinks at that. Tenma had said it immediately, confidently-- even Kirino couldn’t do that. But Tenma stares back up at him, eyes open and full of unflinching boldness.

There’s no possible way Tenma could know something like this for sure-- and yet, he believed in it more than Kirino himself did.

“Soccer is alive!” Tenma says, “so now that we’ve started to fight back-- I just know that it’ll work out somehow as long as we go on! I’m sure soccer was really happy with what we did today, so we can’t give up now.”

Kirino paused. Everyone stares at Tenma, stoic faces and slightly dropped jaws.

Then they burst into laughter.

Tenma’s face heated up. “Why are you laughing?!” he belatedly realizes he’s referred to soccer as a person again, blubbering his next line, “I mean I’m just-- metaphorically-- it's true, okay?! I mean-- you guys know what I mean, stop laughing!”

Kirino doesn’t expect to be cheered up by his own junior after such a miserable match-- but really, all Tenma’s done for all his life is cheer people up.

(That’s why he’s such great Captain material, after all.)

“I’m sure everyone will come around,” Kirino says, sounding sure of himself this time. “It’ll work out somehow… right?”

 _It’ll work out somehow._ It’s Tenma’s slogan, and that blatant positivity has saved them time and time again. All of Raimon had an innate love hate relationship with it three years down the road, Kirino included.

It’ll work out somehow. Kirino’s no stranger to fate’s discrepancies.

-

Midori, Kurumada, as well as Hayami and Hamano, were helping Ms Otonashi clear out the van. There weren’t a lot of things, so everyone else went on ahead.

Coach Kudou was almost immediately called to the Board Chairman’s office. He was quite literally walking right into his dismissal notice, and they all knew it. 

“I still can’t believe we did that, though,” Hamano says with a sigh. “You think Fifth Sector will seriously disallow us from participating in Holy Road or something?”

“Definitely,” Kurumada sighs. “I still think you guys were being rash about it.”

“Huh? They can do that?” Midori gawks, nearly dropping the ice box in her arms. “Like, just not allow us?”

"Of course they can," Ms Otonashi sighs. They're the higher ups, after all-- they can claim misbehavior, or volley up the rules so the third years can't play-- there will be noise, sure. But the noise will also eventually die down. "That's why we've always just kept quiet and obeyed." 

She speaks softly, but the smile on her face never falters.

And that doesn't miss anyone's notice.

"Otonashi-sensei, are you actually _encouraging_ this?" Hayami finally speaks up, sounding more hurried than he wanted to. It's obvious to everyone that his hands are shaking, and he hasn't quite calmed from the anxiety of the field.

Kurumada is the same. “Wha-- _Otonashi-sensei,_ ” he accuses, incredulous.

Hamano keeps a close eye on Hayami-- he steps just a little closer, the action so subtle the latter barely notices the action.

Midori set down the ice box beside the lockers. She would usually be vocal about 'screw Fifth Sector obviously', but even she knew the tension in the team now-- and it's not a lighthearted matter.

Ms Otonashi's gaze softens for a moment. "I don't believe going about it recklessly is the right way to do it," she admits. "But what we did today… it reminded me of _my_ days as the manager of this club."

Their heads lift. Not all of them were aware that Ms Otonashi was an alumnus.

She smiles. "It's a nice feeling, isn't it?" She asks them. "Kicking the ball freely, playing against something you don't agree with, even if it's the world you're facing." They'd faced terrorists that destroyed buildings with a kick of a ball, and they came out victorious. "It might seem vain and impossible now-- but if we'd given up at that time, we would have lost _our_ soccer much earlier than now. My feelings haven't changed… I've just forgotten them for a bit."

The four students look at her, taking in the way she was speaking. It was honest, open, and full of emotion. Just like Tenma and Shinsuke-- those were raw feelings of pure-hearted love for soccer.

When was the last time _they_ were able to speak about soccer like that?

(Kurumada clenches his fist. He wanted to be able to speak like that too-- he’s already in his third year, dammit. And he hasn’t been proud to play soccer for a long time. It was a terrible feeling, and he hates it.)

"That love for soccer is something all of us have. I’m sure today’s plays made you remember just a little of it yourselves," Ms Otonashi says, setting a hand at her heart.

Hamano doesn't suppress his smile. "Of course we do!" He beams.

“I... think so too,” Kurumada says, to their surprise. “I don’t want to stop now-- I haven’t been fine with this system, ever. But it's not that easy to just-- just _do_ that, go against them.”

“Then, fight! What are all of you, wimps?!” Midori snaps.

Kurumada spins at her, equally heated. If she wanted an argument, Kurmada had enough anger to give her one. “That’s easier said! We’ve been laying down low because not everyone’s in agreement when it comes to this, and it’s impossible to do alone--”

Her answer is instantaneous. “Why are we leaving Kirino alone now, then?”

And Kurumada freezes, going shock still.

Because she’s _right_. They didn’t want to do this from the start-- because it was idealistic, and not many had the bravery to rally up enough confidence for that plan. Even Shindou couldn’t take charge of that effort.

And yet-- now that Kirino’s doing the tough part for them, none of them want to move.

But even then, not everyone agreed.

Hayami shrinks further into himself, "I mean… yes, but…" he purses his lips. "It's… irrational. Really, very, just-- irrational. All of you. I thought at least _you_ would understand me when I say this makes no sense, Otonashi-sensei."

“Look here you--” Midori tries to say something, but Kurumada stops her. Midori groans, but Kurumada is grateful she doesn’t chase for it.

If it’s Hayami, the boy that’s usually too anxious to speak against the crowd-- they should tread carefully. Not to walk on eggshells, but because it means Hayami has a point he _really_ wants to make, and interrupting is enough to invalidate him.

"I like to be _normal._ " Hayami says, hands reaching up to his head, lightly clawing at his hair. “Like-- it’s not that I don’t understand wanting to play real soccer. But it’s just a sport-- it’s not worth actually risking our reputation for this. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

And that honestly isn’t too hard to understand, either.

“Hayami,” Hamano speaks up, his tone a hitch lower than his usual easygoing flow-- but Hayami keeps his eyes away from him, not intending to listen.

He knows-- Hayami’s regretting his words already.

He’s always been like that-- keeping things to himself-- and when they inevitably explode, he hates every second of it. If there was a hole, he would hide in it. And if there was a route, he would sprint and no one could catch him.

It’s always up to Hamano to drag him back and into everything-- because Hamano and Hayami have always been each other’s madness and reason respectively.

They got along despite being opposite ends of a spectrum, but there was always a time they didn’t click no matter what. That was just the nature of their relationship. Disagreements go on, and until one of them caves, there wasn’t going to be understanding.

This was one of those times.

"Well, that's fine too,” Ms Otonashi’s response surprises them all. “Everyone’s scared of something-- we’d all be lying if we said we’re confident our efforts won’t backfire on us. And this willy-nilly attitude is honestly fine for us.”

Hayami looks up, stunned. His jaw drops slightly, not quite believing what he was hearing here.

Hamano looks up, eyes wide as well-- Ms Otonashi smiles at them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you guys when Ramon Eleven took a road trip and defeated aliens all around Japan,” she chuckles. Smiling like she’s planned something mischievous, “how about sensei here take all three of you out on a dinner date to Rairaiken? It’ll be my treat, of course.”

A pause.

Then, “eh?”

Midori beams, “seriously? Count me in!”

“Wait,” Kurumada says, more interested in the, “uh, aliens, as in-- the legendary Raimon Eleven's Aliea Academy situation, right?” than Fifth Sector right now. “I’ve heard a ton about it on the news, but they never really release a lot of actual details…”

“Yeah, they needed to protect the player’s privacy or something…” Hayami mutters, hesitant but not unwilling to contribute information, “...because you guys were still junior high school students or something…”

“Did you guys seriously take down terrorists when you were our age?” Hamano asks, and Ms Otonashi nods without hesitation. “That’s _so_ cool.”

“Wait, I don’t see how this has to do with--”

“I’m not expecting to change all your minds with just a story, of course,” Ms Otonashi says. “Just humour an old lady like me, won’tcha?”

And well, who were they to pass up on free food?

“And Ms Otonashi, you are still very young.”

“It’s a figure of speech, _please_.”

-

“I'm back!”

“Sorry to intrude…”

“Ah, welcome back,” Kazunari greets the three as they come in. 

He’s always home on weekends, going grocery shopping and doing the house chores and all that-- _man, what is he, a housewife? For real_ \-- so greeting rowdy children was just something he was accustomed to.

He almost immediately scowls at the sight of them. “Shunsuke is in your room, but please take a shower first, both of you. Hey. Are you listening? HEY.”

Kirino and Ichino come home, and almost with the energy of a fierce momma bear, Kazu chucks them right into the bath. No dirty children covered in grass, mud, and sweat are allowed in the house, thank you very much.

Aoyama watches from the room, snickering.

“I’ll have my laptop set up,” Aoyama tells them, “so hurry up, both of you.”

“Right, right--” Kirino says, carting some towels and change of clothes from the other room. “Ah-- Kazu! Another friend is coming by in a bit, so please let her in.”

“Sure,” Kazu says, “I’m guessing you’re all staying for dinner?” he freezes, belatedly realizing something. “Wait, did you say ‘her’? You're bringing a girl home?"

"Don't freak out, Kazu-san. We're all gay here."

"That is _not_ true, Nanasuke, and I _know_ that."

"Not the point!" Kirino snaps. Then “her name is Akane, and she’s the manager of the soccer club. Please don’t be scared of her, alright?” Kirino says before shutting the bathroom door.

Kazu stares for a long moment.

Then, “...isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

-

Kirino Ranmaru has a lot of sweaters.

Most of them are hand-me-downs from Kazu, because that guy is way too damn talented, and has attended way too many conferences that give complementary T-shirts and hoodies. And he’s still in high school! Almost a graduate, but still.

It makes things worse that the guy is pursuing a fashion major, and Ranmaru was just the perfect dress-up doll to exploit.

Kirino steps back into his room, a tray of tea in his hands. He closes the door, and his jaw just drops. 

Because “what on earth?”

Two boys and a girl are huddled up around the laptop, all wearing one of Kirino’s sweaters. Akane has particularly chosen one of the more obnoxiously cute ones, with bright pink accents and bunny ears sewn into the hood.

(Kirino remembers burying that particular jacket in the deepest darkest hollows of his closet. How did they even find it?)

“I swear I tried to stop them,” Ichino insists.

Akane beams, “this is cute.”

(Well, it suited her so much more than it could’ve possibly suited Ranmaru, so he reckons she can just keep it even if it’s a little big on her.)

“It’s not fair that only Ichino gets to borrow your clothes, so we snagged one too,” Aoyama says, like that’s a fair explanation.

“Me too.”

"Ah, that aside--" Ichino says, lifting his phone, "can I stay over? I'm alone today."

"Ooh, me too!" Aoyama lunges over at the idea. 

"A sleepover? I want in," Akane says, excited. 

“No Akane, you do not sleep over in a house full of male creatures,” Kirino responds immediately, ignoring Akane’s little snort, “but unfortunately, I'm probably going over to Shindou's later. He might implode on himself from his intensive overthinking disorder.”

"Awh, too bad."

“Gosh darn it, Shindou's intensive overthinking disorder,” Ichino deadpans. 

“You know him,” Kirino says, setting down the cups of tea, “I’m quite sure everyone’s in similar states, but Shindou’s got the tendency to put way too much on his own plate. I’m sure he’s blaming himself for what happened today. I can’t leave him alone.”

Akane smiles at that.

“Then we better hurry up so you can go find our captain and give him a bear hug or a kiss or whatever,” Aoyama hums, his hands typing away at the codes in the laptop.

They were building a website, filled with anonymous accounts and information on what they know of the Fifth Sector spread.

Here they would gather pictures, voice recordings, and an extensive account of the feud happening between Raimon on the bench just a few hours ago.

“We’re almost done,” Aoyama says. “Just need to redo the article a few times so it doesn’t sound like I spent the past two hours rushing an essay, and then we can publish the website. I have firewalls, but I think it’ll be safer to do that final step in a net cafe.”

“Amazing, you got it done in just half a day...” Ichino leans over to get a better look, “the match itself feels like forever ago.”

Almost doesn't feel like this morning, does it?

Akane hums, pleased at her rather fine selection of images, “but why are you so good at this, Aoyama-kun?”

Aoyama hums, “my mom’s a software engineer. I’ve learned a bit,” he says. “And I got started on the layout before you arrived, so there was only a little bit left to do.”

Kirino inspects it. 

It’s coming out really well-- their first step out-- making a scandal site. They had backups upon backups, in case it gets taken down quickly.

But there was something missing.

(A greater impact.)

“Can you guys hold off the publishing for now?” he asks. They look at him-- and he elaborates, “I want Coach Kudou’s termination to be the key point of our first post.”

It’ll be the most jarring topic. After all-- Coach Kudou was the one that brought Inazuma Japan to victory. Losing him would certainly hit some very sensitive nerves in the soccer industry.

Akane even mentioned meeting Coach Endou in the stands today. That was a clear sign that that man, if no one else, was going to make a move.

That’s why they have to do it now-- because dividing Fifth Sector’s attention between the two forces (Raimon’s resistance, and this little scandal project) would give both of them more freedom to act.

Aoyama sets his gaze firmly on the boy. “Are you sure they’ll really do it?” He only gets a confident look from Kirino in response-- so he nods. “Alright then. We’ll wait a little longer. Think we can get any sort of evidence for it?”

There ought to be some termination papers of some sort. Come to think of it, couldn’t Coach Kudou have sued for unlawful termination? Or maybe all those moments were considered excessive misconduct?

Ichino sighs, sitting down on the bed. “Suddenly this all feels way too real,” he mutters, hugging a pillow. “Hey, are we _really_ really sure about this?”

“If you wanna back out, you still can,” Akane says, cheerfully. “This is a lot of fun, so I’m staying!”

“I’m staying too,” Aoyama says, “I am _absolutely_ seeing this website come alive. I’ve already done all the coding, so giving up now would be a waste.”

“Man, I wish you had that much determination for the soccer club.”

“Oh shush, Ichino! That’s low!”

Now all that’s left is the page name and their pseud. It would be better to keep information about themselves, including age, number of members, and even gender, hidden-- so an appropriately obscure title would be needed.

“We could go basic and just call ourselves Admin,” Aoyama says, “and title the page something generic like Exposing Fifth Sector or something.”

“That’ll put us right in their target, though…” Ichino says, “what about something like Anonymous Soccer fans?”

“That’s _too_ generic,” Kirino tells him. “We do need a bit of publicity too-- something unique would be nice…"

And so the discussions continue.

There was just something so pleasing about this group, talking openly about years of corruption and how to go about opposing it. The effort was big, but the waves they would make were small. 

And that was fine.

A butterfly's wings may cause a tornado a few thousand miles away; a little voice in the crowd can someday become the loudest sound in someone's head.

Just patience.

Patience will definitely reward.

-

“Minamisawa.”

The purple-haired third-year walks on.

“Hey, Minamisawa!”

Kurama grabs the senior by the shoulder. Minamisawa steps back, but he keeps his gaze forward, stubbornly refusing to look at the shorter forward.

“Stop ignoring me!” he snaps.

“I’m not,” Minamisawa says, “I just don’t feel like talking.”

“That’s basically the same thing!” Kurama hisses. He grabs Minamisawa by the collar, dragging him toward him in an attempt to get the boy to face him.

Minamisawa is silent.

Kurama bites his lip. It’s not fair for him to get angry at Minamisawa when they’re both equally responsible for the shitshow that was today, he knows that. It’s not as if his emotions are the only ones in a total mess-- so Kurama yells out in frustration, letting go with an angry shove.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be like that,” he snaps, marching away to the left. “I’m going home on my own. I hope I _don’t_ see you at practice tomorrow.”

Petty, but Kurama doesn’t care.

Minamisawa looks over, dryly remarking that “your house is in the other direction.”

“And why does it matter to you where I go?” Kurama yells, having no intention to walk straight home today. “Good BYE!”

Minamisawa sighs, watching the shorter forward stomp off like a child.

Rolling his eyes, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s in no mood to cater to Kurama’s tantrums today-- but then again, he really felt like having a temper tantrum himself.

If today’s the last day they play soccer, then they might as well celebrate and drown in their misery like the children they are.

So he stuffs his hands in his pockets and catches up to the forward, hooking his shoulder around the boy.

Kurama whines, “get off me!”

Minamisawa does not. 

He’s taller, so it’s not like Kurama can do much of anything anyways. “Don’t wanna,” he says, directing his attention to the road. “Wanna drop by the arcade or something?”

“I thought you were ignoring me?!”

“Yeah, got bored of that,” Minamisawa says, fiddling with his wallet with his free hand. “How much you got? Let’s find out how much we have to splurge.”

And that’s how they spent the rest of the day, yelling at each other in the arcade, spending all their money and releasing all their pent up frustrations for the day.

Amagi is always the best at the crane games, so after one friendly text as an invitation, he shows up and proceeds to raid everything that was ugly in the machines so they can fill up Minamisawa's house with those monstrosities. 

They were definitely the loudest party in the facility that day.

Sangoku finds them when he passes by on his way home from buying groceries. He was not happy with their irresponsible spending behaviour, and sent them home.

("Okay, dad," says Kurama, earning him a punch to the head.)

-

Kirino makes his way into the Shindou house, greeting his parents and the butler before making his way to the Captain's room.

He opens the door. The group chat was harried with news of Coach Kudou’s dismissal. No one was taking it well. Minamisawa was strangely quiet. Hayami and Hamano were silent as well-- but Shindou’s silence was the most unnerving.

Which is what brought Kirino here.

Kirino opens the door without so much as a knock.

Rubato (Shindou’s obnoxiously large twenty-five pound maine coon) curls around his feet, purring softly in greeting. Kirino crouches down to rub it under the ears. “Hi Rubert,” he says, because no one calls this cat by its right name, “where’s your little brother?”

He’s directed toward the couch-- because Shindou Takuto has a room large enough to fit a few couches, a bookshelf, a work table, a _tea_ table, a cat tower, several cat beds, one hell of a huge human bed, and let’s not forget the grand piano. What the heck.

Seriously, Kirino has no idea how my-brother-sews-me-clothes became friends with yes-we-have-expensive-china-that-we-use-every-day.

“Shindou, are you sleeping?” he asks.

Shindou is on his couch, somewhere between sleeping and contemplating. He hums some sort of non-commital of response, not even bothering to look up at Kirino.

Well, it makes sense. He’s probably angry.

Kirino sits down on the single seat couch, watching Rubato hop up in all its fluffy glory onto his lap. Upon closer inspection, there was a much smaller, lighter coloured ball of fluff asleep on Shindou’s chest.

(Ah, so that’s where Poco is.)

They spend a long moment in silence. Not even the butler bothered them. It was almost time for dinner, but no one came to ask if they had an appetite. Kirino runs a hand through Rubato’s fur, admiring the sleek silver fur.

“Why did you do it?”

Kirino lifts his head, not expecting Shindou to talk first.

It’s not hard to know immediately what Shindou is referring to. What else could it be, when everyone is miserable about the same thing.

“Because I know it’s the right thing to do,” he says, knowing this sounds ridiculous, but his answer hasn’t changed in three hours and it’s not about to change yet.

Shindou clicked his tongue. “Well, it isn’t!” he snaps, sitting up.

Poco squeaks, suddenly thrown awake from his spot. He whines at Shindou from his lap for a while before escaping the scene, deciding the cat tower would be a better perch.

“We talked about this. Literally the evening before!” Shindou says, his voice laced with something sort of pure anger. He must have been stewing on these thoughts for much too long, because Kirino could see the burn of tears in his eyes. “We aren’t supposed to go against the score order because that’s _not_ how it works!”

Kirino tries not to falter, but it’s hard. Kirino has seen him get this angry before, but it was never directed at him specifically.

“Shindou--”

“Don’t try to use that placating tone on me, Kirino,” Shindou reacts immediately. “Tell me honestly-- what’s wrong with you? You were never like this.”

Kirino’s eyes widen.

“It’s all gone wrong,” he says. “Ever since Matsukaze came into the club-- no. It’s before that. Ever since that day you missed practice once,” Shindou’s eyes were tight with pain.

_(The day of the caravan crash and the time travel.)_

Kirino doesn’t know what to say.

The truth would sound like a dumb excuse. Not specifically the part about time travel-- but the fact that he’s doing it simply because of the dumb reason that is ‘it worked last time, so it should work this time too’.

In fact, Kirino knew that this time would have plenty of bumps. With an earlier start to the ‘lonely revolution’, there was a higher chance of actually getting purged out-- if not by legal means, then by violent means.

But that didn’t matter to Kirino.

All he wanted was to have them back again-- to hurry, to get back there as soon as he can (though deep down he just _knows_ that isn’t possible anymore, at least to some degree) but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that so he keeps trying.

He’s trying to skim past the event of this present, because it doesn't matter to him as long as they get their happily ever after-- properly this time.

He doesn’t need some dramatic pep talk, some incredible revolution, or the greatest fame in the world. He just wants the progress they’ve made in the soccer world to _come back_ to him, because he misses it so, _so_ much.

Maybe they’re right.

Maybe Kirino’s really gone insane.

“I had a dream, Shindou,” he says. Shindou flinches, as if he wasn’t expecting Kirino to answer calmly-- or maybe it’s something in his eyes. Kirino doesn’t know how his eyes look now-- they’re just burning, and holding back the tears make his head hurt.

Kirino feels his lips curl upward, but he doesn’t think it’s a smile.

“I dreamt that everything was fine. Fifth Sector didn’t rule soccer, games were fair, and we were standing together-- just a few steps away from an international stage,” he tells him. “All of us, in Raimon, from Sangoku, to Kurama, even Tenma and Shinsuke. All of us, standing together, and we were reaching higher than we could ever imagine now-- and it was because we _worked_ for it. Not because of Fifth Sector.”

Shindou’s face bloats with confusion.

Kirino leans back, lifting his hand from the cat and turning his gaze to his arm. In a few years, a particular nasty scrape would leave a deep scar right around his elbow. It would affect his stretch once in a while, but with a brace and good warm ups, it almost never gave him a problem.

Now it’s gone, but the careful movements in his muscle memory often show up in practice. He disguises it as a clumsy habit, but the fact is that it’s there.

It’s there, a part of him that still remains despite losing it all to this time travel.

He can’t pretend it’s not him, in the same way he can’t just _forget_ and _adapt_ to this new timeline like the other timeline isn’t what he _(they)_ worked his _(their)_ heart and soul off to achieve. It just didn’t work out comfortably-- it’s a cognitive dissonance, and it frustrates him enough to make him scream.

So he hugs himself, and he chews on his lip.

“I want to get back there,” he says, sounding fiercer than he wants to be, speaking more honestly than Shindou could ever understand. “Because I know we were there. It wasn’t just a dream, Shindou-- it was possible. It was possible, I swear.”

He couldn’t find the words.

Kirino has never been the best at constructing convincing sentences-- that was better up Shindou’s or Tenma’s alley. He turns internally to Jeanne and Brynhildr-- but they were silent as well.

(Why were they silent? Why weren’t they helping him?)

(Because deep down, he knows that won’t work. Shindou trusts Kirino Ranmaru, but he does not trust Kirino Ranmaru for the pretty words and the confident declarations.)

(Shindou trusts Kirino as the one who’s always been one step behind him, running up every hill and gliding down every curve. Kirino was always the one that would smile when he looked back, and shove him forward when he slowed down.)

(Their trust was not built on how logical or rational their actions were.)

(It was built on honesty, on emotions, and on pure, blind faith.)

He leans forward, feeling Rubato curl up a little closer to his arm. He appreciates the warmth-- but it’s not exactly what he wanted now.

“I know it sounds stupid,” Kirino says, looking up. He nearly falters when he sees Shindou looking back at him, but he holds strong. “But I woke up that day and… and I realized I don’t want to play soccer like this anymore. And if I can’t have the soccer I want to play, maybe there’s no _point_ in playing soccer. For all of us--”

Halfway through his spiel, Shindou moves.

Shindou moves-- and Kirino feels a hand on his arm before he sees it there.

He’s still hugging himself-- and he abruptly realizes he’s been doing it a little too tightly. His fingers had dug into his arms, leaving white indents and crescents on the skin that was slowly filling back in with blood.

Kirino stops talking, biting down his bottom lip like a child caught at fault.

And Shindou holds Kirino’s arms apart, making sure the boy doesn't do it again. His gaze was firm, but his grip was steady.

The cat picks itself up, leaping away-- and Shindou lets go of Kirino’s hands to lean in, burying his face in Kirino’s lap, circling his arms around the defender’s back.

There’s a breath in, and a slow breath out.

“Shindou…?” he asks, but the Captain only hugs firmer in response. Kirino doesn’t know what to do-- he just takes this moment to wipe away a stray tear he finds at the edge of his cheek, and thinks of the words he could possibly say now.

“I want it too.”

Kirino is stunned to hear it.

“I want that dream, too,” Shindou says, barely audible against Kirino’s stomach. “I want that with you more than anything in the world.”

(I want to play real soccer with you, on a real stage, too.)

“But I can’t understand, Kirino,” Shindou tells him, “it’s wrong. Why did we spend all these years, biting our tongues until it bled? It’s because it was impossible, wasn’t it? So how is it so easy for you to say it’s possible now?”

Kirino finds himself near tears again. He presses the heel of his palm to his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I really don’t know, Shindou,” he says, because that’s the truth. “But I think… I think more so than Fifth Sector itself-- I’m afraid of never playing soccer normally again. If this goes on… I’m scared I’ll lose my joy and love for soccer for real this time.”

This time, because it came very close last time, and only the care save of Tenma’s efforts and the Resistance brought hope back into his world.

“I want to play soccer with you too, Kirino,” Shindou tells him, and Kirino feels the dampness of tears at his stomach. “I really do.”

He can’t sleep soundly these days.

He can’t sit still. That’s why he’s trying so hard to bring the Fifth Sector down personally this time-- because he physically can’t stand the existence of the association any longer. He’s not patient enough to wait for this arc’s conclusion.

(He just wants to see the happy ending of that so distant dream, where they all get selected for Inazuma Japan, and they win on an International Stage.)

“I’m sorry, Shindou,” Kirino whispers, leaning down so his forehead lay on Shindou’s back. “I know this is just my wishful thinking-- but If this ends up going wrong, I want you to be with me even then.”

Kirino has always been the one to pick up Shindou after his failures.

Can Shindou do the same for him?

Shindou unwound his arms from Kirino’s back-- and Kirino lifts, startled-- only to find those arms wrapping around his neck instead.

“I’ll try,” Shindou promises, his voice croaky. A moment later, he admits heatlessly, “you’re so selfish sometimes. I don’t know where you get this from.”

Kirino chortles. “I learned from the best, Shindou.”

Shindou buries his face into Kirino’s shoulders, and Kirino hugs back, holding back the urge to cry.

“Think we can get the team back together tomorrow?”

Coach Kudou wanted that too. He had left hopefully, not at all bitter-- and patted Shindou on the shoulder, telling him that what the team did wasn’t wrong.

_(How do you think Kurama and Minamisawa felt when they kicked that ball up the field?)_

_(I want all of you to remember it, and never forget it.)_

“I thought we were hoping for the best here, Kirino,” Shindou says, a tired sarcasm passing through his words. “How about we guess how many will stay instead?”

Kirino bursts into laughter.

“Sounds great to me!”

(In the future, Shindou eventually comes clean and admits he passed down the captain band, partly due to the fact that he hated responsibilities with a passion and would rather die than take one up with the crushing pressures ever again.)

(Let’s just say Sangoku had to pay Kirino thirty bucks that day.)

Tomorrow will be fine. So for today-- Kirino will stay here, and pretend the world was just as he remembered.

Because if nothing else, Shindou will stay the same.

Even if he’s missing a few years of their shared experiences.


End file.
